Fire and Fury
by GameOfFandoms
Summary: A cliche that's almost been done to death, but I still love it. Hiccup decides that he can't stay on Berk. It's not fair to Toothless, and the village will eventually find out. So he plans, and then he leaves. Will he return to rain fire and fury down on all of Viking-kind? Or will he be the saviour that he wants to be?
1. Chapter 1

**Fire and Fury**

 **Chapter 1**

Hiccup stared at the carved hook hovering over his head. Usually such a thing signaled doom, especially with a ruthless Viking on the other end of it, and this was no exception, although he had to admire how the wearer had cared for it. The customarily snarky and sarcastic teen had no words to describe this moment. The elder had already decided that Astrid would not take first place in Dragon Training, arguably the highest honour anyone of their age could receive, and Odin was she unhappy about it. He could hear her cursing away from the other side of Gobber's oversized stomach. The only other candidate was himself, but there was still the chance that Gothi would claim that neither of them were ready. He was only a hiccup after all. Nothing special for a fifteen-year-old, he stood at five feet four, dwarfed by nearly all around him. His auburn hair not nearly as bright as that of his father's, although the two shared the same startling green eyes. There was no way it could be him.

Hiccup saw every event of the past couple of months in the time it took the elder to nod her assent. He saw himself taking down the dragons that they had in the arena. The Zippleback recoiling in fear as he backed it into its cage, if one observed carefully though, they would have seen the eel hooked around his body underneath his jacket, the creature that dragons seemed to share a particular disdain for. The Terror racing back into its cage as the reflection from his shield gave it something to chase, almost like a common cat would. The Nadder purring as he reached for the spot behind it's frill, scratching it into submission whilst he made it look like he was intimidating it. The Gronckle rolling around in pure bliss due to the dragon nip concealed in his palm, the Vikings around him oblivious to Hiccup's clever methods. His father's expression of pure delight upon hearing of his son's success in the ring. The admiring stares he now received from most of the village. All down to a crippled Night Fury in a sequestered cove a few miles away from the very arena that they were all gathered in today.

In truth, Hiccup was not the success that the village hailed him as. He was as far from a Viking as one could be. Scrawny, weak, intelligent, most of these traits were despised by the tribe. Sure, some of them could appreciate Hiccup's intellect and asked him as though his opinion mattered, but not enough for it to be a genuine and common occurrence. Very few Hooligans knew that it was actually Hiccup that had a hand in most of Berk's weapons, even though he obviously spent a great amount of time at the forge while he was still Gobber's apprentice. The two were actually more like partners now, as Hiccup could almost match Gobber's ability, and his creativity was considerably greater than his master's. But suddenly, Hiccup became aware that he was no longer affected by being the runt of the tribe. He felt a weight lift off of his shoulders as the realisation hit that he no longer had to conform to their ideals. He wasn't a successful Viking by any means, but that didn't mean he was unsuccessful at life in general.

He was jolted back to reality by the cheering of the masses. He had done it. Dragon Training was over, with him as its champion. But the real test was yet to come. He was hoisted up onto the shoulders of his peers as Gobber called out.

"Yeh did it Hiccup! Yeh get ta kill ya first dragon!" His mentor exclaimed, and Hiccup felt a shock of guilt as he heard the note of pride in Gobber's voice, one that was soon joined by Stoick the Vast telling everyone that was near, in the loudest voice possible, that his son was the pride of Berk. The Twins were doing some kind of weird dance around an imaginary campfire that involved a lot of jumping, punching the air, and the occasional head-butt, in true Thorston fashion. Fishlegs was on Hiccup's left, singing praise of the highest form, presumably in an effort to make up for years of ignoring him as the runt of the tribe. Even Snotlout was showing some form of happiness for his cousin, although he was more focused on attempting to woo Astrid.

"Come on, babe, it's ok to lose." He was saying to the increasingly angry girl. "I'll make it up to you." He added, attempting to gain a kiss from the situation. Unfortunately for the young Jorgenson, he was left with a bruised jaw and a black eye.

"Awesome! That is so great!" Hiccup shouted, although the reluctance wasn't heard by the tribe. "I am sooooooo….."

-The Cove-

"Leaving. We're leaving." He said, coming into the cove with a backpack full of miscellaneous items. Most of the contents were made up of notepads, charcoal, forge tools and extra clothing that might come in handy later, although there were some scraps of leather that he had managed to sneak out from the tannery for work on Toothless' tail. He had rushed from the arena as soon as the impromptu parade and the line of congratulators had ended, with no one suspecting a thing, or so it seemed.

"Toothless?" He called. "Come on bud, we're leaving. We've got to get away before they realise that I'm missing. You know I can't kill the Nightmare, I can't kill any dragon. You're living proof of that!" Still there was no sign of his scaly companion. He rounded the corner just as a scraping sound met his ears. Astrid. He gulped. There she was, perched on top of a rock that he usually used as his own seat after a flight, to remind himself what it felt like not to be seated on air with the rush of the wind around him.

"Uh, Astrid? Hi Astrid, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be, you know, anywhere but here?" He babbled, glancing worriedly at the axe held in her hand, and then the malicious look in her eye. He knew it would hurt if he got hit with it, considering he'd produced the weapon himself, not that she knew that. It truly was a beautiful blade, with an ornate handle by Viking standards, and sharpened to near perfection. She was wearing her usual gear, shoulder pads and all, and her spiked skirt looked suspiciously evil when it was glinting in the sun while the wearer bore down on you with a furious gaze. There was a faint swishing sound coming from the bushes on the far side of the cove, but Hiccup paid it no mind, too concentrated on the most immediate threat to worry.

"What has gotten into you?" She exploded, jumping down from the rock and stalking towards him, swinging the axe to punctuate her words. "No one just gets as good as you do, especially you! Are you training with someone? It better not involve this!" She queried, poking his flight suit. Hiccup raised his hands in a placating gesture, slightly overwhelmed by the string of questions and accusations. He decided to lie his way out of it, after all, how could he tell her the truth in a manner that didn't involve her killing him or ridiculing him?

"Look, you got me, I've been making… outfits. So why don't you drag me back to the village and tell everyone my humiliating secret ok?" He said, praying that the dragon that he'd just been calling for didn't decide to show up now. Mercifully, his prayers were answered. Thor must have been feeling generous, because Astrid stopped her advance.

"Yeah, I don't buy it. You're weird, but not that weird Haddock." Astrid said, unimpressed, but at least she wasn't about to attack him now. She stood with her arms crossed, her axe now on her back, waiting for him to think of something better.

"Ok fine, fine, I was coming to test out some new moves to use tomorrow alright?" Hiccup said, faking anger. He didn't have the strength to really be angry right now anyway. "There's only so far that my regular stuff can take me, and the Nightmare is the most dangerous dragon we've got. I don't want to underestimate it."

"Underestimate it? It's a dragon, it's not gonna think about what you're doing, idiot. It's an animal, it reacts out of instinct!" Astrid said in disbelief. Hiccup kept the illusion going, thankfully he'd packed a small sword in his bag, and now he pulled it out. It was difficult to keep the blade up whilst faking a lack of effort, but somehow, he managed it. Luckily for him, Toothless was more accepting of Hiccup carrying a weapon these days.

"Yeah well, it can't hurt to prepare for more can it?" He asked, attempting to stay nonchalant.

"Ok then, let me see what you've got. If you can hold your own against a smart warrior, a dragon should be no problem." Astrid said, and suddenly the gleam was back in her eyes and her axe hand was twitching. Hiccup could already see the beating he would get.

"No! No, I can't fight you Astrid." Hiccup said, panicking. "I can't fight you… because I usually train alone. It works!" He defended, seeing the blonde's eyebrow rise in challenge. There was a tense few seconds where Hiccup thought he was going to end up on his butt anyway, but then a dragon call sounded. A familiar one, coming from far away. The two stopped, glancing around as their instincts took over. Astrid was the first to move.

"Dragon! Quick we should go after it! If we kill it then we'll both be considered warriors! It's perfect!" She yelled in excitement. Hiccup's mind whirred as he tried to formulate a plan, while the blonde practically dragged him out of the cove. After all, he didn't really carry any weight, and she was at least five times as strong as he was.

"Ok, ok, we should go, yeah." He stalled, walking after Astrid. She stopped, waiting for him.

"Come on Haddock! It'll get away!" She cried in frustration, tapping her foot in impatience, but surprisingly waiting for him to make a call.

"Alright, we should split up, try and surround it. It didn't sound like a Nadder or a Gronckle, and it was too loud for a Terror. So that leaves a Zippleback or a…" He trailed off in melodramatic horror. Luckily for Hiccup, Astrid was far too excited to pick up on his lousy acting.

"Nightmare!" She crowed. She started off in one direction, yelling over her shoulder. "I'll go this way, you take the other way, meet back here in ten minutes!"

Hiccup merely stood there until he lost sight of her in the trees. He let out a sigh of relief and retreated back to the cove, shoulders slumped in fatigue and knees weak as he remembered her expression upon coming up with a 'plan' to take down the 'wild dragon'. It was the look of one who was excited, and strangely happy. He sometimes wished that she would one day look at him with a similar expression, before remembering that she wore it right before she was about to kill something or hurt someone. As he stepped through the entrance, he was met with a large black mass with wings bounding over to him.

"Hey Toothless! Odin, am I glad to see you! That was awesome! How did you change your call like that?" He cried, rubbing his companion's scaly head all over. The Night Fury took in the praise, purring before he stopped, thinking, then padded over to the tree in which he usually perched. Hiccup realised that another game of dragon charades was in order, as Toothless dragged over a fallen log.

"Ok, so you had a log?" He questioned the dragon, who nodded back in a 'go on' gesture. "So, you called into the log? Ok I guess that would muffle the call. but that doesn't explain why the sound came from far away…" He mused. Toothless shook his head. As usual, Hiccup was overthinking and the answer lay right in front of him. Well, not quite. The dragon crouched down in front of his friend, an open invitation to get on. After a minute of unresponsiveness from Hiccup, Toothless took matters into his own hands, clamping his jaws over Hiccup's collar and throwing him up onto the saddle that had been left on from yesterday's flight, all the while rolling his eyes at his human.

"Alright, alright Mr Bossypants, I'm up, now what?" Hiccup yelped in surprise as he landed softly in the saddle. He quickly fixed into position, ready to take off, but the Night Fury had other plans. Toothless set off at a bound, heading for his tree perch. He had discovered, after the initial panic and sadness of being flightless had faded, that he could escape the cove by scaling the tree and gliding on an air current to the rim of the breach. However, the one flaw with that was that the current only blew through at certain times of day. It had taken the dragon the best part of three days to memorise the pattern, by which point he had already met the interesting human whom he now called his partner. Unfortunately for Hiccup, his skin was not as thick as his draconic companion, and the miscellaneous branches scratched his face as they ascended.

"Thank you for that Toothless, just what I wanted, a war with a tree." He groaned sarcastically. Toothless replied with a warble that sounded suspiciously like a laugh as the branches cleared and the two could survey their cove like a kingdom from atop their perch. Hiccup gasped in understanding as the breeze that Toothless had previously used to create his distraction hit his face. He looked down at the magnificent creature beneath him.

"You know bud, you're one of a kind." He smiled kindly. Toothless preened like a Nadder before sinking down to prepare for take-off. As soon as Hiccup felt the shift in the muscle beneath him, he reacted, allowing them to push off the tree and rise on the wind. A few beats of the huge wings that Night Furies were known for, and the two were well away from the ground. Hiccup felt a smile burst onto his face as the elation of being up in the air took hold of him. Up here, no one could challenge him. He and Toothless ruled the skies, and Thor did they know it.

They continued to climb, Toothless showing no signs of real physical exertion, and Hiccup realised that having a human on his back had only strengthened his companion. Between that and a regular diet, Toothless had actually grown since they first met. Not noticeably, but enough for Hiccup to be aware, they were best friends after all. Hiccup guessed that there must be another foot on the Night Fury's wing span by now, and the muscles that were impressive enough when they first met now bulged slightly, displaying Toothless' explosive power. They levelled out near the clouds, where Hiccup was sure that they wouldn't be seen.

"Well bud, you wanna go for it today?" Hiccup asked, all thoughts of running away forgotten in the thrill of flying. He had left his backpack in the cove anyway, after the whole incident with Astrid. Astrid. "Oh Thor." He mumbled. She had said to meet back in ten minutes, about three minutes ago. That gave them seven to be back on the ground with Toothless out of sight. "Uh, ok bud, why don't we see how fast we can do a lap of the island? That'll be fun right?" He asked.

Toothless' grunt suggested that no, it wouldn't be if it was only one lap, but his human was worried, so he would acquiesce this once. Hiccup rubbed his partner's head in thanks, before crouching low over the saddle as Toothless prepared to dive. The two fell, but instead of the terror a normal human would feel, Hiccup only felt thrill and bliss. The sky was his home. He had been born for this. He imagined that this was how Toothless and all the other dragons felt too. They tore through the air like it was mere paper, Toothless' aerodynamic body creating the screaming whistle that caused so much fear during raids. The sea came closer, but still the two felt no fear. They moved in sync, as if they were two halves of the same whole, and with a flip of the prosthetic they levelled out, skimming across the waves so fast that the world around them was a blur.

They rolled under the leaping form of a Scauldron, and Toothless tucked in his wings as they hurtled through the tube of a wave, opening them out once more to keep them out of the icy reach of the water once they cleared it. This was the type of flying that only a Night Fury could perform, and Hiccup was in awe as he worked in perfect tandem with his friend, stunned by the feats they were accomplishing together. The Night Fury truly was the Prince of the Skies, and it humbled Hiccup that Toothless allowed him to experience this. His heart felt a pang of guilt at the mental image of Toothless doing this all on his own, as Hiccup was now the dragon's only way of regaining his flight.

An ear flap thwacked his cheek, and Hiccup glanced down to see Toothless' disapproving stare. Clearly Hiccup's face had betrayed his emotions. Hiccup sighed, expelling the thoughts as he refocused on flying. Immediately his heart leapt again, as they shot into a clump of sea stacks. Hiccup read every tiny shift in his friend's body, feeling the muscles work as if they were his own, and reacting within a fraction of a second to follow the dragon's instinct so they could dodge around the stacks that appeared through the fog.

"Whooo!" Yelled Hiccup as they emerged from the fog. Toothless evidently felt that their fantastic flying merited a celebration, and let loose a roar of triumph, followed by three small plasma shots above them, that exploded in a myriad of shades of purple and blue. Their victory was short lived however, as Toothless changed direction suddenly, in a move that felt alien to Hiccup. It was strange, for them to have worked in harmony for the entire flight, only for it to be thrown off in one movement.

Hiccup glanced down at Toothless, only to see his friend's eyes widen and his head to shake, as if to clear it. He looked up at Hiccup, almost like he was checking for reassurance. Hiccup smiled nervously, before a shriek sounded to their left. An orange Nadder with dark blue spots came into view, carrying a sheep in its talons. A response was heard from their right, and Hiccup spun in the saddle to see a green Nightmare check itself before it rammed into them, warned by a growl from Toothless. It too held its catch.

"This must be the members of a raid hauling in their bounty." Whispered Hiccup, horrified, wondering what he was in retrospect, before remembering that this was Toothless, his friend. He ducked down as the twin heads of a blue Zippleback inspected him, before retreating under Toothless' gaze. The dragons seemed to respect Toothless, and more arrived, surrounding them but not venturing too close as they flew. They continued to follow the drove, steering away from Berk.

The dragons didn't appear to have targeted the Hooligans this time, and Hiccup was glad, although he felt sympathy for whichever tribe had been on the receiving end. It wasn't approaching night yet, which made him curious. Dragons only ever attacked at night, or in the late evening at the earliest, so they must have flown a fair way, possibly set off in the morning? There weren't many tribes that dared settle close to Berk for the sole reason of their dragon 'problem'. The Hooligans, Outcasts, Berserkers and the Meatheads were among those that were believed to be closest to the nest, as these tribes experienced more attacks than others. Although this generally meant that there was less violence between Vikings in these tribes, there was the trade-off of constant dragon attacks. Hiccup had heard tales of many battles fought between other tribes, especially from the other heirs during the annual trips he undertook with his father to renew treaties and strengthen alliances. It was a surreal thought that Vikings were fighting other Vikings when a whole world full of other creatures lay out there. Humans, he thought, were perhaps the most dangerous of all, as few would turn on their own species purely for the sport of it.

The horde of dragons jolted Hiccup from his ruminations as they drove down into a fog thicker than any he had seen before. Hiccup was amazed that the dragons knew where they were going. Instinctively, he knew that this place was dangerous. Spires of rock came from nowhere, and somehow a ship's head nearly hit them. A ship. In the rocks. Not good. Hiccup came to a very sudden realisation about where they were. They were in Helheim's Gate. The home of the dragons.

"Come on bud, we've gotta get away from here!" Hiccup whispered frantically, only for Toothless to shake his head, eyes still wide open. Clearly, Hiccup's companion wanted him to see this. Or he didn't have a choice. Hiccup didn't know which was worse.

They flew on among the drove, listening to the cacophony of dragon calls, mixed with the bleating and baying of the animals that they were hauling in. Suddenly, the fog lessened, and Hiccup bore witness to an island springing up from seemingly nowhere. In truth, Hiccup was slightly disappointed with their destination. There were no visible signs of life, no greenery, and certainly no animals. It was barren, a wasteland. Yet it's true size was only revealed when Hiccup took in the mountain in the centre. Though it seemed small at first, he soon realised that the mountain was truly of colossal size, making the island itself that much bigger. There seemed to be various exits, big enough for perhaps three dragons to fly abreast, other than the main funnel at the top.

As they circled it, Hiccup felt an urge to run, to get as far away from the place as possible. Toothless, too, seemed to feel such an urge, as his head strained away from his body in a vain attempt to escape. Hiccup was filled with a sense of foreboding as the drove's circling grew tighter and tighter, before, as one, they dove down the main funnel. It was chaos as the seemingly endless swarm of bodies piled in, narrowly avoiding each other with practiced ease.

As they entered, Hiccup felt an almost unbearable heat hit his skin. He hissed in pain, drawing the attention of a Gronckle. The creature stared at them, before fixing its eyes downwards. Hiccup soon realised why, as he leaned over Toothless' side and saw a pit filled with the fog from outside. The dragons halted in mid-air, excluding Toothless, and dropped their kill into the pit. Hiccup could only watch in utter confusion as they then moved on to settle on various ledges around the pit, drawing back to the walls and perching in nooks and crevices. Toothless flicked him with an ear, reminding him that they should move too. Hiccup agreed, whatever was in that pit clearly had the dragons scared.

They settled onto a ledge housing a Nightmare, a Nadder and another dragon that Hiccup hadn't seen before. The wild dragons barely gave him a glance, eyes fixated on the pit, cringing as a throaty grumble echoed around the chamber, nearly bursting Hiccup's ears. Whatever lay down there must have been huge to produce such a sound. The drove of gift-bearing dragons petered out, leaving only a few stragglers. The last of these was a confused looking Gronckle. It fluttered around for a moment before seemingly realising what it was supposed to be doing. With a retching sound, a single fish, ironically a haddock, slid from the dragon's tongue and dropped into the hole. The Gronckle, pleased with itself, purred, and set off for the nearest ledge.

A huge roar froze it in its tracks, and the surrounding dragons withdrew even further. Hiccup recognised the tone of the roar. It was one of disappointment, anger. It was a tone he was used to, just not from a monster in a pit in the nest of the dragons. Toothless drew back behind a column of rock, and Hiccup was aware that he was sweating profusely, due to the heat and the fear that he felt, but tried to limit his gasping breaths. If that thing was enough to scare even Toothless, a Night Fury, then it was in their best interests to remain silent.

All of a sudden, a buzz began to sound in is head. At first, Hiccup put it down to lightheadedness from the heat, but the feeling grew. He shook his head, agitated, before realising that other dragons were doing the same thing. In fact, all of them were. The buzzing became harsher, before Hiccup realised that the sound was changing. The buzz became a grating whisper, rasping and unclear.

It grew louder, and louder, until Hiccup could almost make out words. Words, in his head. What in Thor's name was happening to him?! The dragons around him began to shake their heads frantically, some even whimpering. The Gronckle remained frozen in fear, its wings beating evenly to maintain altitude above the pit. He became aware of Toothless falling into the same state, and reached out a hand to comfort his friend. Around them, the dragons collectively stiffened, as if falling under a spell. Then, they turned in complete sync to unwaveringly stare at the boy and the Night Fury. The rasping voice grew louder still, until it took on a feminine tone, almost akin to the one Gothi had used only once in Hiccup's lifetime, when she had caught Snotlout throwing axes at him. The elder's fury had been untamable as she screeched at Hiccup's cousin, before untying the ropes that had bound him to the tree as Snotlout scarpered.

 _ **"Traitooooorrrrssss innn oouuurrrr miiiddssstttt."**_ The voice rasped in terrifying tones, and Hiccup panicked. It was the thing in the pit. It was speaking, inside his head! Toothless could obviously feel Hiccup's terror, and most likely could hear the monster too. It seemed that all the dragons could. Hiccup felt a spike of amusement ripple from the pit, although he wasn't sure how.

 _ **"Ah, one who speaks our tongue."**_ The voice continued, and Hiccup was confused. Spoke their tongue? What was the voice talking about? Again, another ripple of amusement. _**"But also, one that is unaware of it!"**_ The beast laughed, if monsters could laugh that is. Now he was truly terrified. If he could understand it, and it could understand him, what language were they speaking? The monster appeared to run out of patience. _**"I sense a servant I had begun to think was lost to me, welcome back Skygge Djevel."**_

Hiccup recognised the term. It literally translated to Shadow Fiend. There was a snarl from Toothless, who evidently detested the term, and Hiccup realised that it must have been the title given to Toothless by the monster, meaning that Toothless came from the nest. Another rasping laugh sounded.

 _ **"I tire of your insolence, insect."**_ The beast continued, even as Toothless snarled and growled. _ **"And I must feast. I must. Have. More!"**_ It shrieked, as a gargantuan head emerged from the pit, jaws snapping over the still-hovering Gronckle in the biggest display of dragon cannibalism that Hiccup was ever likely to see in his life. There was a flurry of activity as the spell was broken and the situation quickly deteriorated into carnage as it became every dragon for themselves.

"Let's go bud!" Hiccup yelled, his head still aching from the monster's speech. Toothless didn't require telling however, as he was already sprinting to the edge, and they hurtled off in the fastest take-off the pair had performed yet. The monster's head slamming into the column that they were behind only moments ago. With a few powerful beats of his wings, Toothless was skyward bound, storming through the blockade of dragon bodies as each creature had the same desire: escape.

They shot out of the top of the mountain, angling away from it, the Night Fury's impressive speed coming into play. There wasn't a dragon alive that could match them as they sped past the occupants of the nest, spinning and swooping to avoid all obstacles that came their way. If Hiccup had been thinking straight he might've laughed at the similarities between the beginning of their trip and their return. As it was, his mind was still reeling from the encounter with the talking dragon that wanted them dead and he was unable to do anything but move the pedal to keep himself and Toothless in the air.

As they put distance between themselves and the mountain, Hiccup became aware that it was approaching nightfall. Definitely past the ten-minute mark that Astrid had set. They must have been out for a good two hours at least. He groaned, trying to think of an excuse to use as they neared Berk. Toothless also appeared to be well out of it, as the usually showy dragon declined the loops and tricks in favour of a quick set down in the cove. For once, Hiccup was relieved to be on solid ground. He slipped off of his scaly friend and whispered a quick goodbye as he hugged Toothless' head in thanks. It was a sign of how shaken the pair were that they said and did no more, with Hiccup taking off at once in the direction of the village. How was he going to explain this one?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Hiccup's boots pounded into the thinly worn track. It was a mark of how often he came to the cove that there was a path running there. Inwardly, he cursed himself for leaving such an obvious trail to Toothless, and resolved to try taking different routes so the grass and shrubbery could grow over the compacted dirt. His cheeks huffed as he panted, running faster than ever in his life, save for the day where the Nadder had cornered him in the labyrinth. He could imagine his father's frantic search, believing his son to be lost just as his wife was, and felt a pang of guilt for being so deceiving. Then again, deceiving was a much better alternative than a mounted Night Fury head in the Great Hall. He became aware that he was reaching the edge of the forest, as the trees became noticeably smaller and thin spread. They were no longer the towering behemoths in the depths of the timberlands, but were frail and young. In a way, the forest reflected the tribe. The strong and bigger trees were at the heart of the area, while the small and weaker trees remained on the outside. 'Only the strong belong.' His father had once said. How sad it was that this was the best that humanity could do.

Hiccup shook himself as he heard voices call out his name. He froze, before ducking under the cover of a low-lying branch. He peered through the foliage at the village spread out before him. Vikings weren't exactly the smartest bunch, something demonstrated by their attempts to presumably look for him. Some individuals were seemingly convinced that he was hiding in one of the many barrels that lay strewn across the village, and tipped each one over in succession, before proceeding to call out that he wasn't in that one, and gathering up the contents of the barrels, stuffing them full again haphazardly. Hiccup was bemused and a little touched by this odd display of affection. Only weeks ago, the village would have held a party to celebrate. Celebrate! The disappearance of a human would have been celebrated! Now though, the situation had been flipped on its head, and the entire tribe seemed to have been roped into a frantic search for the 'Pride of Berk'.

Hiccup's heart felt a twinge of guilt as he heard his father call his name, voice cracking only slightly. He took a deep breath before casually walking into the village, painting the image of confusion on his face. He traipsed up to Gobber, his mentor not even noticing him in the heat of the search, and stood for a second, admiring the amount of people looking for him.

"Hey Gobber, what's going on?" He asked, nonchalance coating his voice. Gobber didn't even look up from his position, kneeling down to peer under a house in a vain attempt to find his pupil.

"Wha'? Oh, not much 'iccup, jus' lookin' for ya." His teacher replied gruffly.

"Hmm, well I'm not sure I'd fit under there. I know I'm skinny but it's always dark and smelly and damp under the Twins' house." Hiccup said, attempting to keep himself from laughing. Gobber sighed and pulled himself up to his feet.

"Yeah, yer right, you wouldn' be under there. If yeh'd be anywhere it'd be in the forge!" He cried in triumph, moving as if to run there immediately. He stopped himself though, and turned around, patting his apprentice on the back. "Thanks 'iccup, don't know where I'd be without ya!" He grinned toothily, turning away again. As he was about to start walking, the blacksmith froze, and spun right back to face Hiccup, who was having a hard time keeping a straight face. At Gobber's bewildered and angry expression he failed to contain it.

"Sorry Gobber." He apologised between bouts of laughter. "It was just too good an opportunity to miss!" Gobber wasn't impressed. He grabbed Hiccup by the scruff of the neck, dragged him through the maze of alleyways in between the houses, and thrust him into the middle of the village square.

"Found 'im!" He bellowed to Stoick, who was looking over a map of the island to see where they should check next. The chief turned, and Hiccup winced, expecting to be yelled at, maybe even sent home. Instead, his father smiled happily.

"Hiccup!" He greeted, as though he hadn't been worrying for the past hour. "See Gobber? We Haddock men can take care of ourselves, can't we lad?" He beamed at Hiccup, who felt as though he had fallen into a different world. He gave a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, sure dad. Umm, what was I taking care of myself for again?" He asked, confused. Stoick laughed loudly.

"Ha! 'What for?', he says. As if he didn't ward off a wild dragon that came after him and tried to carry him off! Ha ha! That's my son!" Stoick boomed, drawing the attention of the surrounding villagers, who at once noticed Hiccup and flocked to him, asking if he was alright, what breed of dragon it was, if he managed to kill it, and much more. Hiccup glanced at his father, overwhelmed. By some blessing from Odin, Stoick seemed to understand, and waved his huge arms to signal quiet. The villagers acquiesced and the chief turned to his son, pride shining in his eyes.

"It's ok lad, Astrid told us everything." Stoick said, and Hiccup involuntarily glanced towards the beautiful shield maiden, surprised to see concern in her eyes, before it was replaced by a look of indifference.

"Errr, what exactly did she tell you?" He asked, almost fearfully. He was positive that she hadn't seen him on Toothless, and there was no way that the village would take it this well if they found out about his pet dragon. His father only chuckled, motioning for everyone to go to the Great Hall.

"I declare a feast! In honour of our two brave warriors, Astrid Hofferson, and my son, Hiccup Haddock, for their bravery in facing a wild dragon, besting it, and returning home only a day before the final ceremony of Dragon Training!" He roared, and the village cheered. Hiccup glanced at Astrid once again, relieved to see her happy at being included in the celebration instead of giving him the usual glare that followed big announcements with his name in them. Perhaps his father wasn't devoid of brains or tactics after all. As the village ran on ahead to prepare, Stoick turned to Hiccup, walking at a slow pace.

"I'm proud of you son." The large man said gruffly, and Hiccup had the sneaking suspicion that this was as emotional as Stoick the Vast would ever be for a long time. He simply waited, knowing more was to come. "Your mother would be too, if she were here." Hiccup hung his head slightly at the praise he felt was undeserved.

"Dad? What did Astrid tell you?" He queried, curious to hear how she spun the tale of them fighting a dragon, and fearful that she had seen him with Toothless. Stoick smiled.

"Too caught up in the heat of the moment to remember were ya?" He teased slightly, before acquiescing to Hiccup's request.

"Well, she said that she had followed you into the woods, to do some 'training'." He began, and suddenly Hiccup got the impression that his father believed that something else happened. "And she said that you talked, and were about to start your, ahem, 'training' when a dragon call sounded." He broke off, looking at Hiccup for confirmation. Still cringing at his father's implication at the word 'training', he nodded, and Stoick continued.

"She said that to your credit, you stopped and came up with a plan to circle the creature and attack from two sides instead of charging in swinging, and that you agreed to split up." Again, the hint of pride had crept into Stoick's eyes and voice.

"Only she said that when she reached the spot where the dragon call had sounded from, it wasn't there. And neither were you. She looked all over, noticing a set of tracks going back to where you had originally met, which she followed. She said that the tracks the creature made stopped when they met yours, and there were branches and twigs strewn everywhere, indicating a struggle, but neither you nor the dragon were anywhere to be found. And that's all we know." Hiccup's father concluded, eyes still shining with pride.

"But you fought him eh?! Gave him the old one-two and brought the beast down! How did you do it?" Stoick asked, leaning over Hiccup in anticipation.

Hiccup was saved by their arrival at the Great Hall, and the smell of food distracted both of them, realising how hungry they were. They entered, all thoughts of dragon killing aside for once as their stomachs growled in unison. Stoick laughed, gesturing at Hiccup to go over to the other trainees, and he complied, though he was sure that he would be grilled for every detail later. He noticed the group all fawning over Astrid, begging her for details. They didn't notice him until he sat down next to Fishlegs, after which the group split their attention between the pair. Hiccup heaved a sigh of relief as even Astrid showed interest in his side of the story, for once not a glimpse of anger was expressed towards him for stealing the spotlight.

The group asked Astrid to start again, so Hiccup could add his part at the end, and she agreed, beginning with such a gusto that Hiccup fully believed that had she not been such an excellent warrior and devout shield-maiden, she would have made a fantastic story-teller. He withdrew to his own thoughts, estimating that he had only minutes to come up with a suitable and believable ending. He remembered listing off the different dragons back in the cove, resolving to just use whichever one Astrid used or it would look suspicious. He reckoned he could say that it was out of gas, hence why he had no burn or scorch marks, and luckily between Toothless dragging him through the tree and the frantic flight at the end of their excursion, his clothes were slightly shredded. He became aware that Astrid was coming to the end of her part of the tale and listened in for the dragon she used.

"So, I saw the tracks, heading right back to where I'd just come from, and they didn't look like Nightmare tracks, thank the gods for that, so it must have been the Zippleback." The blonde warrior said. "So, axe in hand, I charged all the way back through the forest towards the cove, just as a vicious shriek sounded. I'll admit, I thought it had got Hiccup." She carried on, glancing at Hiccup with a slightly apologetic expression.

He smiled nervously, encouraging her to keep going. "But when I got there, there was nothing! No dragon, no Hiccup, but definitely the signs of a struggle. There were these deep gouges randomly scratched into the ground, and there were scorch marks all over the place, with a load of snapped branches from the tree."

"So… They both died?" Asked Tuffnut in horror, only for his sister to hit him.

"Hiccup's right there you yak-headed idiot." She said. "Sorry Ast, carry on." Astrid smiled her thanks but shook her head.

"I don't know anything more than that. The rest is Hiccup." She said, looking at him. He sighed, and then cleared his throat, resigning himself to the task, but he was interrupted before he could even begin.

"Hey everyone! Hiccup's telling the story!" Snotlout called, before smiling at Hiccup, surprisingly nicely.

"Now you don't have to say it like, a billion times." His cousin declared, as the villagers stopped eating and gathered round. Hiccup noticed Gobber and his father make their way over and gulped. He had a rather large audience. He didn't know how to proceed but took a deep breath and began his tale in a rambling manner.

"Well," He began, unnerved by all of the eager faces around him. "Like Astrid said, we split up, both of us circling around from opposite sides. At first, I was excited, I thought that we had a chance to catch it unaware. Then, as I crept along, I could hear this snorting sound, coming from behind a copse of trees to my right. I'll admit, at first, I was worried, but as I got closer I felt braver. I knew Astrid would be nearly at the other side by now, so it wasn't like I was on my own anyway." He broke off, glancing at his audience before continuing.

"So, as I approached, the snorting stopped, and turned into a sniffing sound. I reached to my waist for my sword, only to realise in horror that I'd left it in the cove in my haste." There were several gasps from the crowd, Vikings always loved a good story with lots of twists. It was strange, usually leaving his sword behind would have gotten him ridiculed, but now the tribe lapped up his words like eager dogs.

"So, I came up with a plan on my feet. In all honesty, with the realisation that I'd left my weapon behind and all, I clean forgot that Astrid was ready to charge in. I decided that I'd lead it back to the cove, where I might be able to subdue it, if not kill it. So, I started to move slowly backwards, aware that the dragon seemed to be sniffing for me, trusting that it would follow the promise of a meal, however scrawny it may be." There was a bout of hearty laughter, and under different circumstances Hiccup would have taken delight in the situation. In truth, he himself was getting caught up in the fabricated tale, mimicking Astrid's earlier excitement.

"Unfortunately for me, I stepped backwards onto the driest twig in the Archipelago, and two large heads appeared in front of me. It was a Zippleback alright, not a huge one, but big enough to eat me. I kept backing off, praying to Odin that it would follow at a slow walk. I guess the gods wanted to make it difficult for me, because the thing charged me." Again, a ripple of gasps ran through the audience.

"So, I did the natural thing; I ran towards my weapon, dodging under branches and confusing the dragon with erratic movements. Unfortunately, this particular Zippleback had good coordination, so it was hot on my heels when I got to the cove. Luckily, I reached my sword in time, fending off a tail swipe in the process. Why the beast wanted me I wasn't sure, but I had other things to think about. I dodged fire and claws on instinct, keeping plenty of distance between me and the heads, even as they let of small blasts around the cove. It was weird, they didn't really make any noise, and the dragon never roared once. Eventually, it backed me up against a tree, and I scaled it quickly. It tried to follow me, but the branches weren't strong enough. I saw on opening to go for one of the heads, and threw myself from the tree, aiming to cut one of them off. I'm sad to say I missed." He said, fake misery forced onto his face.

Suddenly, an idea hit him. He could try and imply that the dragons weren't attacking them out of instinct, but because they were being controlled. He continued with renewed vigour.

"Then, all of a sudden, the dragon stiffened, it's eyes widened, almost like it was receiving some sort of message. As quick as it began, the fight ended, and the dragon prepared to take off. Then, like it had changed its mind, the beast grabbed my arms in its claws and took off. The weird bit is that it flew low, barely skimming the treetops, but heading for the nest, I'm sure of it." There were collective gasps now, as the Vikings realised that Hiccup could have ended up dead in the nest, never to be found. Stoick's face was white with fury, and Hiccup realised with horror that he was describing exactly what had happened to his mother.

"But I managed to wriggle out of its foul grasp, dropping onto the branch of a tree on the very cliff-top. If I had waited seconds longer I would have been as good as dead. Evidently, I wasn't worth the beasts time, as he didn't even flinch, just carried on flying. I waited a few minutes to see if it was coming back before I climbed down before finding myself in a spot of the forest I'd never been in before. Let's just say my navigation skills aren't too great, because it took me a good hour or so to find the right path to head back to the village." He concluded to some laughter, but there was a lot of muttering and cursing, namely at the dragons. He half-heartedly joined in, but his heart was rapidly sinking. He had made a poor choice in telling his story. If anything, the tribe was more riled up at the winged beasts.

Finally, Stoick the Vast stood, and clapped his hands just once, a sound so great that all stopped to listen.

"In light of today's events," He began, tone one of both great happiness and pride, yet also of great gravity and seriousness. "The final test shall be postponed, and will now be held exactly five days from now. Can't have our champion failing because of an early dragon attack, now can we?" He said with false joviality, winking at Hiccup, who saw through the façade easily, even if the tribe didn't. His father was worried sick, especially after hearing that a dragon had nearly carried him away. It was likely that Stoick sought to stop the fight entirely, but daren't go against tradition.

There was also the idea that he would look cowardly if he stopped the fight because it was his own son that was participating, especially after Hiccup had already won the honour of Berk's most promising trainee. Hiccup had a suspicion that he would suddenly receive copious amounts of dragon-killing advice because of this, and the thought of so many people telling him to mutilate the species of his best friend horrified him. He wasn't sure how he would ever be able to step into the ring in five days' time. But the way that his father gripped the handle of his great hammer suggested he might not have to and told him that Stoick was close to killing every dragon in Berk's infamous Kill Ring himself.

The chief's knuckles were white as he stood rigid among the throng of celebrating villagers, likely imagining a painful death for every different known species of dragon. Eventually, his eyes softened, and his grip relaxed, pulling Hiccup into an awkward side-hug with one arm.

"I'm proud of you son, I always knew you had it in you." He murmured, and Hiccup was stunned. He'd never really received such praise from his father before, and was unsure of what to do. Before he could speak, Stoick held him at arm's length. "Off to bed I think lad, you've had a trying day." The grin was forced, but still present, and Hiccup found himself sporting a look equally so, but for entirely different reasons. He was becoming more and more aware of the fact that he didn't want to compete in the final test.

As he walked home, Hiccup thought on his dilemma. On the one hand, he could attempt to fight the metaphorical good fight and kill an innocent dragon, most likely killing himself in the process and earning himself a humiliating place in history as the worst Viking to ever live. On the other hand, he could continue with his plans to leave. All of his stuff was still back in the cove with Toothless, so it would be relatively easy to simply return there and fly off into the great beyond. On the other-other hand - Hiccup was confused by this point, was it the other foot? He'd run out of hands - he could, he could what? Attempt to reason with the village? Show them that dragons weren't the enemy, just the rather large and ugly one that was sat in their nest? Yeah, he could see that going down really well with his father. He might as well dance around in a pink dress singing the Outcast National Anthem.

He decided to think on it tomorrow, today had been far too hectic and his head was all over the place. There was no way that any plan he came up with would be feasible while he was like this. His best bet was to simply sleep on it.

He trudged on through the village, fatigue taking its toll on his body as each movement became more and more sluggish. He meandered past some of the villagers that had been home to grab something or drop the kids off in bed before returning to the feast, safe in the knowledge that raids never happened in consecutive days. Besides, the minor storm on the horizon gave them all a little extra security, knowing that dragons preferred peaceful nights to conduct their attacks. They smiled at him, bidding the exhausted boy goodnight. He returned the gesture, expressing his gratitude and telling them to have fun at the party. He couldn't believe it. A party. In his honour. One that wasn't celebrating him leaving the tribe.

His house seemed so much further away from the hall than he remembered, and Hiccup cursed the fact that the chief's house resided at the top of a hill. He stood at the bottom, debating whether it was worth the effort or if he should merely curl up on the softest spot of ground that he could. Eventually, he decided against the floor, favouring his bed over the compact dirt and cobblestone, and began the arduous task of climbing the hillock.

The few privileges to being the family of the chief, or so Hiccup thought, was the ridiculously comfy bed and private wash tub. Of course, the hot springs were far nicer to bathe in, but he hated waiting for everyone in the village to come back from them before he went himself, so in came the tub. The bed wasn't exactly all feathers and cushions, but it was by far one of the comfier models that Hiccup had ever slept in, being forced into playdates with other children had taught him just how good he had it in terms of nighttime arrangements.

The door to his slumber loomed closer with each step, and Hiccup had never been so happy as when he ascended the stairs to his room and threw himself upon his bunk. His last thoughts weren't quite coherent, but he could have sworn they were full of talking dragons….

 **Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews!**

 **To the guest that inquired about my Star Wars Rebels fic, I must say that unfortunately I don't know if I will carry on. Now that Season 4 is over, I have some freedom with my plot, but there are no immediate plans to return. Please don't hesitate to get in touch, tell me what you liked or didn't like and why. Any reviews would be welcome. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It felt surreal waking up. At least to Hiccup it did. His dreams had been rather vivid lately, but he could never remember them when he awoke. He just woke up every morning believing that his dream that night had been real. It was disappointing to say the least when he found out it hadn't been, particularly when he woke up with such a euphoric sensation like this one. He imagined it must have been important, but not enough for the gods to allow him to retain it, else he would be able to recall the events of it. The sensation faded, and he was left with a dull throbbing feeling in his gut. There was no pain to accompany it, merely a steady throbbing, almost like a pulse. It rose and fell, sometimes spiking in a little tug at his gut. Again, there was no pain.

Shaking his head and trudging to his door, Hiccup looked back on yesterday, remembering his vow to come up with a brilliant plan for his test in five days' time. A plan would be easier when he had time to think. Preferably on dragon-back, as he always came in from a flight with ground-breaking ideas. Granted, most were forgotten by the time he got back to the village from the cove, but that wasn't the point.

The pot downstairs was making a shrill whistling sound, like he had seen dragons do to communicate. Hiccup shuddered involuntarily, but for once it was not due to the cold morning air seeping in through the windows. He paused, remembering the behemoth's words, its scream that seemed to promise death and destruction. The throbbing suddenly spiked again, but quickly resumed it's almost unnoticeable rhythm. As he pulled on his tunic and vest, he wondered whether all dragons could do that. Project their thoughts and voices into the minds of others, even humans. He resolved to ask Toothless the next time he visited the cove, which would be this afternoon if he could help it. Unfortunately, his father might have something to say about his only son wandering off into the forest only a day after being carried off by a dragon. Hiccup longed to tell his father that the story was fake, but how could he do so without exposing Toothless, and risking his father's wrath? He would just have to argue logically, maybe in front of Gobber or Gothi, as those two and Spitelout seemed to be the only ones in the village that could persuade Stoick to do anything other than what his gut told him.

His thoughts were abandoned as he peered out of the window at the sun. It was higher in the sky than he thought, and the fact that it was even in the sky already made him late for work. Grabbing a quick bite of the bread and stew left out for him, Hiccup hastily pulled on his boots and flew out of the door, taking off in the direction of the forge.

-The Forge-

Gobber was busy this morning, so much so that Hiccup received barely a grunt from his mentor as he entered the shop. The older Viking was sharpening a sword one-handed, well everything he did was one-handed due to the prosthetic but that was beside the point, whilst expertly whittling an arrow, holding the shaft in between his knees. Hiccup looked over the counter to see the endless line of customers that he had to serve, each seemingly carrying more weaponry than the next. The supposed raid on the nest earlier in the week had really taken its toll on the village's supplies. Gobber must have heard him enter, as he paused his whittling long enough to jab at Hiccup with the prosthetic claw he had in place of his left hand, and then moved it over to the pile of swords, axes, spears and even the occasional mace that was building up on the far side of the counter. Hiccup rolled his eyes exasperatedly at his mentor, moving over to the pile and grabbing the first of what was to be hundreds of orders for the day.

"Ah saw tha'." The Belch warned, not even glancing up from his work. Hiccup smirked and rolled his eyes again. "An' tha'!" His mentor cried in mock outrage.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say oh-mighty master smith." Hiccup jabbed back with his usual sarcastic wit. Gobber and many of their customers chuckled. It was customary for the two to be full of such banter, it was simply how they worked. Of course, they had become much more tolerable of it since Hiccup's success in the ring, something he was entirely aware of and resented slightly. However, he had a job to do, and his love and respect for Gobber outweighed his negative feelings about the village at the current time, so he set his jaw slightly and heaved the bent sword he was holding onto an anvil. If Gobber noticed his apprentice's sudden shift in demeanour, he didn't notice, but perhaps he was just grateful that Hiccup was throwing himself into work slightly more than usual. Whatever the case, Gobber mostly left Hiccup's pride alone all morning, the two far too busy to even uphold their petty insults and jibes at each other.

The two hammered in tandem, never missing a beat as they struck each sword straight, set each guard right. They moved as a well-oiled machine, too familiar with each other to need mere words. It was a spectacle that no other pair could have accomplished even with years of training, and the Vikings of Berk never truly appreciated such a wonder. They found it to be common by now. A trip to any other island would have shown them the true privilege that they held.

They danced around each other, working in perfect harmony, covering areas that the other missed, each knowing their role. Occasionally they worked on the same piece, and it became hard to tell who did what, as the quality never wavered. The bellows never remained still for long, as Gobber's forge housed no careless Viking. The villagers oft complained of Hiccup's clumsiness, but the forge seemed to grant him a new grace. He shed the awkward young runt and became an equal to the master smith beside him, and Gobber knew it, was proud of him for it. It was part of the reason that he insisted that the boy stay inside on raids, because although it was true that he would cope far worse outside, his apprentice never missed a beat when he stood behind the counter.

Hiccup seemed to take on a new confidence at the forge, he spoke without the pauses and the awkwardness, almost casually, as if he had been at home with people all of his life. It was why the village had tolerated him for so long, because he made up for his mistakes when he worked. Gobber felt proud to say that Hiccup could easily surpass any smith in the known world, including himself. Anyone could learn to make a sword or a spear, but Hiccup's work was full of creativity.

At first it had been barely noticeable, even to the eyes of a trained smith, but after a while, Gobber began to see the flair that Hiccup weaved into his work. Little adjustments that made all the difference. From things as trivial as a new barrel design, with the bands reinforced in some crazy, almost outlandish manner that seemed to double their capacity for usage, to the way a guard was fitted to a blade, or a handle to an axe that made the weapon more durable, less likely to break, and every Viking's favourite; just a tad deadlier.

Eventually Gobber had discarded the old designs and watched Hiccup draft new ones, marveling at his young charge's ingenuity. It was incredibly safe to say that, should anything happen to either of the smiths, Berk would fall apart. Between their skill and newfound creativity, none could match their work, and any other blacksmith that Berk hired would fall substantially short of the quality produced by the two.

-Later that day-

Hiccup resolved that he never wanted to see another axe, sword, spear, dagger or bow ever again. He obviously didn't mean it, the forge was too close to a home by now, and he would miss coming to work every day anyway, but that didn't help his current mood. Eventually, the pile dwindled down to a few stray weapons, and the pair of Vikings could breathe easier.

"Never been tha' busy before eh boy?" Gobber chuckled, patting Hiccup on the shoulder, a gesture that the boy instantly recognised as Gobber's form of praise. He flushed slightly, Gobber didn't hand out compliments for free, especially in the forge. He smiled.

"I don't know Gobber, I think the 'Great Raid' a couple of years back had us working all week!" Hiccup proposed, and Gobber appeared thoughtful for a moment, before shaking his head.

"Nah, tha' was only because I was tryin' to keep you from burnin' the place down! Yeh were only wee, well, wee-er, and yeh couldn' lift a flamin' sword, let alone sharpen one! The amoun' o' times I had ta stop wha' I was doin' to keep you from hurtin' yourself…" The blacksmith trailed off with a fond smile at Hiccup, chuckling. Hiccup joined in the laughter, but winced at the thought of being even weaker than he was now, it was honestly embarrassing for him at this point. Years ago, Stoick had been able to explain that Hiccup was just a late bloomer, but it was approaching the point where, at this stage, the whole village knew that they were running out of excuses.

He shrugged off the negative shackles that seemed to be dragging him down more often as of late, and refocused his attention on Gobber. His mentor had not even noticed the slight dip in Hiccup's concentration, and had prattled on with the humiliating backstory that followed the 'Great Raid'. Hiccup was once again thankful that he seemed to possess a natural talent for ignoring the less useful parts of Gobber's long and obnoxiously loud stories, instead able to retreat within his own mind to find sanctuary amongst thoughts of inventions, science and, more recently, dragons.

He remembered with a jolt of anxiety the startling events of yesterday's flight. It wasn't every day that you visited the Nest, survived, and then heard dragons talking to you, and actually understood them! Then again, Hiccup wasn't exactly the average Viking. Aside from his obvious lack of physicality, he was the only human to even ride a dragon.

"That we know of." He added on to himself in a low murmur. He couldn't quite understand it, but he felt as though he was not the first human to ever ride a dragon, perhaps simply the first in the Archipelago. He wondered if the strange feeling in his gut had something to do with yesterday and was surprised to still feel it. He tried to recall feeling anything during the last few hours of work, but was interrupted by his mentor. Gobber had by now noticed that his apprentice had ceased listening and, like most responsible adults, responded by stomping over to the boy and belching loudly in his face. Hiccup recoiled quickly, startled by both the alarmingly toxic smell and the ridiculously loud noise that erupted from Gobber's mouth. Needless to say, the Belch found this highly amusing. Hiccup had to disagree, but this was Viking humour, and Viking humour consisted mostly of toilet humour.

"All righ' all righ', don' get yer tunic in a twist lad, just having some fun." Gobber said surprisingly straight-faced after a brief fit of giggles that were most inappropriate for a man of his size and stature. Hiccup truly believed that he might never see the man in the same way. "Yer free ta go." The Belch added, grinning at the look of elation that sprung onto Hiccup's face. "Jus' make sure you an' the lass don' go 'Dragon Hunting' again, if tha's what yer callin' it these days!" He cackled, gleefully tormenting the poor boy as he misjudged the reason for such a reaction. Hiccup could feel his face burning as he turned as red as the dying embers of the fire in the centre of the forge. He made a quick and graceful exit, breaking into a run the moment he rounded the corner for home. If he ever heard Gobber again it would be far too soon.

-Hiccup's House-

It was eerily quiet in the house when Hiccup arrived, slightly out of breath by the run up the hill. However, he had grown up in the silence, and he oft enjoyed its company as it allowed him to think uninterrupted, and never yelled loudly in his face like the other occupant of the home. The tricky thing about silence is that it most often pops up when it is unwanted, or even unwarranted. There's a reason that the word silence is usually following the term 'awkward', and so true silence is hard to come by. When it is chanced upon, it is the most amazing nothing in the known world. Such peace and tranquility could never be achieved by any living being, as it would be impossible to mimic, especially by such a loud and obnoxious race as humanity. Hiccup pondered to himself for a moment about his relationship with silence before realising that he had forgotten entirely what he had returned home for. Then he merely shook his head and turned towards the door, knowing that what he was looking for was not here. Except it was.

"Ah Hiccup, been lookin' everywhere for ya lad." Stoick the Vast greeted, pushing the door aside with practiced ease, even though it was heavy oak. Even on a good day with the wind assisting him, Hiccup had to use two hands and lean some weight into the door to open it. Hiccup's heart dropped slightly, sure that he was about to receive a talk on where he was allowed to go and who had to supervise him until the end of his days. Stoick had always been overprotective to the point of neglect, presumably because of the loss of Hiccup's mother, and the ordeal yesterday definitely wouldn't have helped matters.

"For me? Really Dad?" Hiccup said, faking surprise. "That's funny, because I was looking for you!" Deciding to bite the proverbial arrow sooner rather than later, Hiccup prepared to ask his father the question that had been on his mind since he had woken up. Instead, he was greeted by an awkward one-armed hug. Shocked, Hiccup's brain froze, and his mouth ceased its movement, preventing him from speaking.

"I've decided to… er… well what I meant is…" Stoick began, for once at a loss for words. The shock was soon replaced by a creeping sense of fear. It was never good news if Stoick's usual bluntness was shunted aside in favour of diplomacy. The chief drew himself up to full height and looked Hiccup in the eye, which in itself was an oxymoron because of Hiccup's small stature, and so Stoick ended up craning his neck so that he could see over his vast beard and down at his son, taking the edge off of his impressive look only slightly, but also casting an intimidating presence. Hiccup at once felt his heart sink. This was it. The moment he would be put on house-watch and guarded at all times.

"I'm allowing you to return to your training in the woods." Stoick side, his tone kinder than the harsh ones Hiccup was used to. "Provided that there are no more encounters with wild dragons. Am I clear? No hunting them until _after_ you finish your test." Hiccup was stunned. He had expected to have to argue his case to the point of near death, but here his father was, giving him permission to leave the house alone. Once again, Hiccup found himself thinking that only a few weeks ago, his father would have grounded him until Ragnarok. He realised that Stoick was awaiting a response, a worried look creeping across his features briefly at Hiccup's lack of reaction. He finally found his voice.

"Uh, thanks Dad, you know I was just about to ask about that." Hiccup said, as a small smile adorned his face. Stoick chuckled slightly at his son's awkwardness. "So, you're definitely ok with me going back out there?" The smaller Haddock questioned, the thought that his father might be joking crossing his mind. Hiccup watched as his father's brow knitted together, clearly there was a much bigger debate that was being withheld from the situation. He supposed it was only fair, after all, they only had each other at this point, something that had been made painfully obvious in the events of the previous day.

"Yes." The Chief decided, almost sighing the word. "You're growing up Hiccup, and the only way that I'm ever going to be sure if you're ready to accept the responsibility that comes with being a full member of this tribe, let alone the next Chief, is if you go out there in a few days' time and prove it to me. Until then, you need to do whatever you can to prepare, and that includes training. By the bucket full. It's one thing to master the dragons in the ring lad, but it's an entirely different thing to kill one." Stoick straightened, seemingly satisfied with his pep talk. And why wouldn't he be? It was the perfect talk for a Viking. Straightforward, to the point, and involved death and glory. A speech like that would cause even the weakest to rise. The only trouble was that it didn't stir Hiccup. The young man forced a smile and hugged his father.

"Thanks Dad." He whispered. Although a part of him was grateful, Hiccup couldn't help but feel a small amount of bitter resentment rise up inside at the way his people worked. He was given freedom only because he seemed to be excelling in the traditional areas of their culture; mindless killing and violence, yet he was suppressed everywhere else. And the root of it all was the dragons. Ultimately, Hiccup didn't fit with the tribe because of the dragons. They were on the opposite end of the spectrum to him when it came to that. His father had been right though, it was much harder to kill a dragon than it was to pacify one in the relative safety of the Kill Ring, not that Stoick knew he'd experienced both things. His father smiled slightly, before straightening and walking towards the door.

"Now Hiccup, I want you to behave yourself, is that understood? I know you're both young, but you and Astrid need to be responsible with how you handle things. Especially since you're going to be chief one day. I want no children out of wedlock, understand?" Stoick said this seriously, but there was a twinkle in his eye, and Hiccup groaned at the implications.

"No, Dad, it's really not like that..." He protested weakly, but his father brushed him off with a grin.

"Right! Now I have some chiefing business to attend to, you know how it is." Stoick began, shifting his mammoth-like bulk. "I'll see you for dinner I take it?" He added, glancing back at Hiccup, who nodded absently, remembering that he was now allowed into the forest. The shock had faded slightly, allowing him to think clearly, and he realised that he didn't need anything from the house anyway, as everything was still in the cove from yesterday's excursion.

The door clanged shut after his father took his leave, but Hiccup barely registered the sound. The feeling in his gut was getting stronger, and a faint buzzing entered his head, akin to the resounding ringing that comes after being too close to a large explosion but deeper and more animalistic in tone. By now it was worrying the young Viking, and he wondered if it was a possible side effect from being in close proximity to the Red Death, as he had taken to calling it in his head. He needed to find Toothless. If anyone could help, it would be the Night Fury. It was hinted at that Night Furies were among the most ancient of dragons, so perhaps Toothless would know of his ailment. Then again, it would be an astounding task to get Toothless to give up his information, and an even bigger one to somehow understand or translate it. He sighed, rubbing his forehead in irritation, and resolving to find out exactly what the cause of such a thing was.

-The Cove-

Hiccup's apprehension grew as he approached the entrance to the cove. It was as if the events of the past few weeks had never happened, and he was approaching the Night Fury again for the first time. It was made slightly stranger by the fact that the buzzing in is head and the pull in his gut got stronger with each step, leading him to believe that Toothless was indeed the key to figuring everything out.

"Toothless?" He called out, seeking his draconic companion. "You here bud?"

There was a crooning behind him, and there sat Toothless, hind wiggling like an excitable puppy. The buzzing grew louder and louder in Hiccup's head, and there was a final tug in Hiccup's gut before it ceased, and Hiccup's internal organs finally settled into their natural positions. Toothless' excitement grew, and the dragon bounded over and licked Hiccup's cheek, unintentionally catching most of his left side as well.

"Toothless! You know that doesn't wash out!" Hiccup complained. Luckily the day was slightly warm for Berkian weather but even so, Hiccup didn't dare remove his clothes to wash them in the lake. The buzzing faded slightly as the Night Fury had the decency to attempt to look sheepish, and Hiccup's brain whirred, making a seemingly impossible connection. He could _feel_ the Night Fury's emotions.

"It's you, isn't it, bud?" He breathed, so sure of the fact that he was in tune with the dragon on some level or another. "You're this buzzing in my head, aren't you?" The Night Fury froze, eyes wide as Toothless too seemed to put yak and sauce together to make stew. His ear plates quivered, before letting out an elated sound that to Hiccup sounded like a prideful rooster. He laughed as the terrifying spawn of lightening and death danced around, tongue hanging out like a dog. The black dragon crowed again, before settling down into a warble after Hiccup shushed him. His head was reeling after the discovery. He and Toothless were connected. Bonded.

" _ **Yes. Bonded. Good word, two-legs."**_ Came a smug, friendly voice, that Hiccup immediately placed as the Night Fury.

"Thanks bud, it feels weird to know…" He trailed off, realising that he hadn't just imagined Toothless speaking. Usually, Hiccup talked, and then while the dragon made noises, Hiccup turned them into sentences in his head. But this time there were no noises. And Hiccup hadn't imagined the voice. He turned on the spot to look at Toothless, who sat perfectly still, concentrating hard.

" _ **Work it did? Through I am?"**_ Came the voice again, only this time Hiccup could actually see the dragon try to communicate. He staggered backwards, completely flabbergasted that a dragon was talking to him telepathically.

" _ **What mean?"**_ Asked the curious dragon.

"Wha-what?" Hiccup finally managed after flapping his mouth a couple of times.

" _ **Tel-tela-tela-pathhhh-ical-ly."**_ The dragon said, struggling with the unfamiliar word, and then immediately lifting his head in pride as he said it again. _**"Telepathically."**_

"How-how do I do that? Hiccup asked. "How do I say it back?" The dragon paused for a minute, searching for the words, and Hiccup realised that Toothless didn't actually speak Norse very well. "So, you learnt to speak? From who?" He wondered aloud. Toothless stopped pondering to train a bemused glance on his companion. "What?" the human asked, awaiting an answer.

" _ **You, silly two-legs."**_ Was the snide response. Hiccup smacked himself with the palm of his hand.

"Duh, who else would it have been?" He groaned at his own stupidity, and the dragon gave his signature warble-laugh.

" _ **You say it back… by… think, yes?"**_ Toothless said, addressing his original question.

"Oh, so I think it and you can hear it?" Hiccup asked, and the Night Fury nodded, looking pleased. "Well, that's sort of what telepathic means, bud. You say it with your mind and not your mouth." The human explained, and the dragon thought for a minute, before nodding to show that he understood. A forge fire lit in Hiccup's head, he could ask Toothless about the dragon in the Nest now!

Toothless winced, and Hiccup realised that the dragon had already sensed his intentions.

" _ **No ask about Queen."**_ The Night Fury pleaded. _**"Not yet."**_ Hiccup paused, but then nodded. Toothless would talk when he was ready. Although, he couldn't help but to acknowledge the word the Night Fury used for the monster. Queen. He shuddered and suppressed the thought, not just because he knew that Toothless would pick up on it. He supposed that in the meantime, he could teach the dragon Norse.

Again, the dragon picked up on his intentions and his ear plates lifted, eyes lighting in a way that Hiccup had not understood before.

" _ **Yes! Words! I want speak like you!"**_ The dragon crowed. Hiccup laughed at the Night Fury's antics, but was glad that the process would go down well.

"How are you doing that? Reading my every move?" He asked. "I can sort of predict what you're going to do, but you seem to know exactly what I'm thinking." Toothless gave his gummy smile and snorted.

" _ **Your mind not protected. Mine guarded."**_ The dragon explained simply.

"How? Why?" The curious boy questioned.

" _ **My kind… has more mind strength."**_ Toothless said, although he sounded unsure of the words. _**"We need it… so we don't… get caught by Alphas. Only strongest get us."**_ Hiccup frowned, but could sense that the Night Fury was uncomfortable with the topic.

"Ok," He said, rubbing his hands. "Let's get to work."

-The Cove, Three Hours Later-

"Ok Toothless, that was good. Really good. And so, so strange." Hiccup said, rubbing the nose of the sleepy Night Fury. The dragon had been awake all day and, like with any teenager, learning was making him drowsy. They had made significant progress on the dragon's Norse, but it would be a while before he could speak as well as a Viking. Well, an educated Viking at any rate, he was already beyond certain members of the Hooligan tribe. Hiccup had already learned so much, like how old his companion was, and how insufferably hard it would be to raise a child. At least Toothless wanted to learn, for the most part.

" _ **I'm tired."**_ The Night Fury complained. _**"Do something more fun."**_

"Alright, alright. We'll go for a flight." Hiccup relented, and Toothless instantly perked up. "But we're not going far, I don't want another trip to the Nest."

Both boy and dragon shuddered in sync, and Hiccup once again marveled at their bond, which Toothless had yet to explain. The Night Fury rose, shaking his wings and stretching, before crouching to allow Hiccup to get on. The human obliged, clambering on and clipping into the harness, before leaning over, mirroring Toothless' position on the dragon's own back. With two great flaps of his bat-like wings they were airborne, and Hiccup felt the familiar fluttering inside, as well as an innate amount of joy that he knew to be coming from both himself and his friend.

Whilst in flight, Hiccup explained his situation regarding Dragon Training to Toothless, who remained silent for quite some time. Hiccup, too, fell into silence, as both partners strove to think of a way to avoid the death of the dragons. Although they weren't Night Furies, Toothless still felt an urge to help his own kind, and eventually the crafty dragon found a way. Crowing with triumph, the Night Fury explained his idea, and Hiccup smiled.

"That just might work, bud. I like it. It even has a little flair in it." The boy said, and Toothless huffed, slapping him with an ear plate, although the gummy smirk gave the whole act away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all for your support! The reviews that some of you guys have left have genuinely made my day, and just knowing that so many people have read this is a real motivator. Unfortunately exams are a thing so I can't promise a regular upload schedule but I will do my best. Enjoy the new chapter, don't forget to leave a review if you have any criticism or, even better, any praise. It would be much appreciated.**

 **Chapter 4**

Hiccup had never felt so much nervous excitement and such dread before in his life. Now that the pair had a plan, it had dawned on the boy that the final test was only a few days away. He needed to work fast, and stay off the radar. That, however, was becoming increasingly impossible as the village folk followed him wherever he went. Thankfully, his father had banned them from watching him train for fear that someone may put him off or even sabotage him, so he could make frequent visits to Toothless.

They had quickly established a routine; Hiccup would visit the black dragon with breakfast, where he would teach the Night Fury to understand Norse, and to speak it through their bond, and then he would rush to the forge to work for Gobber, staying there to work on his plans for the Kill Ring. Luckily there had been no raids in the past few days, so there wasn't a huge amount of work, meaning that Hiccup found himself with a lot of time to work with. In the late afternoon, he would return to Toothless for a brief flight and some more lessons. He hoped the effort would be worth it, or else he would have a lot of explaining, and a fair bit of running, to do.

-The Forge, around midday-

Hiccup wiped the sweat from his face as he bent over the fire, brow furrowed in concentration that few had ever seen on the boy's face. Despite his inaptitude at fighting and obvious lack of brawn, he continued lifting and dropping the cumbersome hammer to flatten the lump of metal that he was slowly coaxing into the form of a dagger. He had already produced an identical one, and it lay on the bench, having been cooled earlier. The pair were his finest creations, a much finer silver than the silver-grey that they usually produced, with beautiful craftsmanship, if he did say so himself. Later on, he would sit alone in the shop and embellish the blades and hilts, adding intricate detail that even Gobber would be begrudgingly impressed at.

So far, he had not been disturbed, with most understanding that he was forging his own weapons for his use after the fight, something that earned him more respect than he felt he was due, especially given that he had no intention of using them on the dragons. He figured that there would be much confusion among the tribe if he used only two daggers after he had completed the test, so plans for a beautiful axe had also been made, and Gobber had insisted on being around for him to create it. Daggers were much easier to make than axes, and so the blacksmith had thrown Hiccup from the forge until he had agreed to let the stubborn tradesman sit in while he made it.

The door to the forge creaked, and Hiccup stilled, waiting for someone to enter. After a brief moment, someone did. Astrid Hofferson entered the building with a scowl on her face and Hiccup quickly buried himself in his work. It was common knowledge by now that Astrid hated Hiccup with a burning passion, but was far too committed to the chief and tribe to let it show. Here, however, was a different story given that Gobber had trotted off to find some supplies and fetch the pair of them lunch, leaving Hiccup quite alone in the forge. He suddenly deeply regretted the fact that the villagers had left him in solitude. There was a brief pause while Astrid glanced around for Gobber, before whirling around to glare at Hiccup as he began hammering again. Hiding his face by looking down at the metal Hiccup winced, knowing that whatever came next wouldn't be pleasant.

"Haddock." Astrid greeted with forced politeness. "Where's Gobber?"

Hiccup pretended not to have heard her, and completed three more blows to the incomplete dagger before looking up with a smile that didn't represent his true feelings at all. His childish infatuation with the eldest Hofferson girl was beginning to subside these days, and he now felt a varying range of emotions when her looked at her that couldn't quite be contained in his extensive vocabulary.

"Hi Astrid, didn't expect to see you here. Aren't you usually training at this point in the day?" He greeted, far more jovial on the outside than he should have been. Astrid's eyes narrowed.

"And you would know this because…?" She questioned, her ever-present axe rising slowly as her body shifted to a much more hostile position. Hiccup, having studied predators previously while observing wild dragons with Toothless, immediately noticed the change but didn't show it.

"Common knowledge I'm afraid." He answered calmly, unable to believe how even his voice sounded. "Everyone in the village knows that you train all the time, and with Dragon Training cancelled, and no repairs to do from raids, it's very likely that you'd be in the woods throwing your axe at a bunch of trees."

The look on Astrid's face became one of cold calculation. It was clear to her that Hiccup was no longer a stuttering idiot in her presence, but neither did he display such bold bravado that was typically associated with Viking men. It was almost infuriating that he refused to even flinch when merely days ago he would have cowered before her and stuttered out some excuse for having to leave. But now, he stood before her with confidence that no one had seen from the boy in years. Perhaps winning Dragon Training had finally forced him to grow up. Still, she could spare no respect for him, as he had not yet earned such a thing from her.

"Where's Gobber?" She repeated, tone still far from civil but not promising a painful death either. Inwardly, Hiccup sighed his relief, but refused to let it show in the face of such danger.

Relaxing slightly and returning to his work, he replied. "He left to grab some lunch and a couple of things he needed for an axe. Why? What's up?"

Predictably, the girl's eyes had shown interest at the mention of an axe, and Hiccup smiled to himself at how easy it truly was to manipulate a Viking if you became indifferent to them. He was not yet indifferent to Astrid, but he was able to lead the conversation and force them down a path with only his words when the situation was right, a technique he realised that he should employ more often. After all, it was far easier to confound an enemy rather than to bash their brains in, especially for a boy of his stature.

"I just wanted to talk to him." The lame reply came from Berk's fiercest young warrior. It was a terrible lie, paper thin and transparent to anyone that knew Astrid Hofferson. Hiccup's sharp eyes noticed that she had shifted her weight to her other foot, and was now holding her axe at her side, out of Hiccup's view.

"Really." He said. A statement, not a question, indicative of his disbelief. He gestured briefly to the semi-hidden axe. "So, it has nothing to do with that?"

Astrid found herself once again in a state of incredulity at the boy's boldness. He dared to question her? She scowled irritably at his probing, but he held her gaze, seemingly aloof.

"It's none of your business, Haddock." She spat, and Hiccup sighed. Back to square one. He held up his hands in a placating gesture, which somewhat lost its affect as one hand held a large hammer that soon put him off-balance. He quickly returned to his work to hide how close he had been to falling over.

"Ok, none of my business." He agreed. "But my guess is that it needs sharpening, am I right?" He questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Yes. It does." Astrid forced out. "How did you know?"

Hiccup smiled slightly but didn't look up as he answered, knowing that Astrid's frustration would be showing in her eyes. "You wouldn't have come here if it didn't have something to do with weapons. You brought your current one but value it too much to replace it, which is totally fine by the way. Then there's the fact that you don't want me to touch it or see it, meaning that there's something wrong with it but not badly enough for it to be completely broken. You just don't want to risk my clumsiness. Hiding the blade suggests it's blunt, therefore it needs sharpening. Correct?" He stated, and felt smug when she didn't respond. He glanced up to see a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"Yeah, that's exactly it… But, how did you do that? You're the village nuisance but you just read me like an open scroll!" She burst out.

Hiccup chuckled. "Well, most Vikings can't even read." He said drily, resorting to his old fall-back of sarcasm. He ignored the part about being the village nuisance and the disrespect, he had become almost impervious to that sort of talk by now. "Do you want it sharpening or not? Most days that Gobber goes for lunch end with him coming back at dusk, drunk and in no position to sharpen an axe, but by all means wait for him." He said, turning back to his dagger shaping.

He could sense her debating his offer. On the one hand, it would be far easier for her to let him do it now, at just past midday, rather than to wait for Gobber to return. On the other hand, he was Hiccup and she hated him. And up until recently he had a very bad habit of breaking important things. Finally, she handed him the axe wordlessly, and leaned against the workbench with her arms crossed. Hiccup raised an eyebrow but took the axe over to the grindstone, expertly setting it going. He carefully worked with the weapon, aware that he would not leave the forge alive if he messed up.

"At least you know how to take care of it." He muttered to himself. It was a habit that he and Gobber shared to judge people by the state of their weapons. He had seen many Vikings sent scurrying from the forge due to the state of their weaponry after a dressing down from his mentor.

"Of course I do!" An outraged voice came from behind. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't handle my equipment! I could beat you with my hands tied!" Astrid cried.

"I'm sure you could, but I'm not saying that because you're a girl, I'm saying it because I've seen grown Vikings come in here with blades too chipped to even melt down and use again." Hiccup said quickly, cursing himself for voicing his thoughts. It wasn't so dangerous when he was speaking to Gobber, but anyone else would take his comments the wrong way.

He heard Astrid settle back against the bench, and felt her watchful gaze as she observed his work. "At least you're not breaking it yet." She murmured.

He ignored the snide comment and resumed work. He angled the axe slightly different to how Gobber would have done, but only because he knew this axe well. Unknown to Astrid, whenever she sent her axe into the forge to be repaired, Gobber left Hiccup to do it. Usually the elder smith was too busy to worry about an axe that had yet to see battle with its owner, and so it was a job of lesser priority. Hiccup knew exactly how Astrid liked to use her axe due to an abnormal amount of time spent watching her train and fight. It shamed him now to think of his obsession, but at least the knowledge came in handy when the time arose.

Within a few minutes he was done, and he handed the newly sharpened weapon back to Astrid, who took it cautiously, as though Hiccup's hand had tainted it somehow. As he moved back to the anvil to work on the second dagger, he saw her test the blade on the pad of her thumb, and heard the hitch in her breath when it pierced the skin with ease. Satisfied with his work, Hiccup grunted as he hefted the hammer and began to pound on the metal that was now much more dagger-shaped.

"Thanks, Haddock." Astrid said quietly, and Hiccup knew it had taken a lot for her to swallow her pride enough to express gratitude to him. He waved her off like he had seen Gobber do many times in the past.

"Don't mention it, see you around." He spoke each word with the accompaniment of a blow from the hammer to the anvil.

He didn't hear her leave, nor did he hear Gobber return un-inebriated until the blacksmith was right behind him. The hammer was plucked from his hands like a child's toy as Hiccup's mentor pushed him aside with a wink.

"Ah'll finish this up lad, get yer grub." The Belch said, gesturing to the plate of food resting on the bench. Hiccup was surprised to see that it still looked warm, and happily sat down to eat. After a brief pause, Gobber went on. "So, 'bout this axe o' yours. One or two 'anded?"

Hiccup thought for a moment before deciding. "One handed, if it's too big it'll slow me down." It was important to keep up the charade that he was attempting to kill dragons.

Gobber nodded. "Good poin', but it'll be harder to slice it with one 'and."

"Yeah but in case you haven't noticed, you need to be able to lift an axe properly to do any damage. Which for me would be impossible with anything bigger than a couple of feet." Hiccup countered.

"Aye, yer scrawny limbs won' get much use outta the heavy stuff." Gobber chuckled. "Righ' ah'll start on a basic design an' we can go from there." The smith said, moving around the forge to find the right parts and notes. "We'll go over the rest later this afternoon, but fer now yer free ta go."

"Thanks, Gobber. I'll see you soon." Hiccup said through a mouthful of bread, jumping off the stool that he had been perched on and heading for the door, leaving his bemused mentor to his own devices.

-The Cove, around 6pm-

"I gotta say, bud, you're really getting the hang of this thing." Hiccup complimented after a hectic lesson of Norse tutoring. They had only gone on for this long because of the lengthy flight in the afternoon, leaving Hiccup with time to fill and plenty of leverage against the black dragon. The Night Fury preened.

" _ **Thank you, two-legs. I'm getting rather good I think."**_ Toothless responded mentally. _**"Soon I will be able to teach you to speak Dragon."**_

The thought stopped Hiccup in his tracks. "Speak Dragon? What do you mean bud?" He asked, thoroughly confused.

" _ **How else do you think Dragons talk to each other? We have to communicate in some way. We have our language, you have yours. You just can't understand mine yet."**_ The dragon said, matter-of-factly.

"So, you mean, I can talk like you? I won't be speaking in my head or in Norse?" Hiccup asked.

Toothless shook his head. _**"It is very rare for a two-legs to bond with a dragon. I have never heard of it in my lifetime, but I am not very old. Even the oldest in my clan told that it had not happened in their lives either. But I was told that when it happens, it is only with a special human that already has the potential inside them."**_ Hiccup could tell that Toothless' story was leading somewhere, and so stayed silent. _**"Only a handful of two-legs possess the skill that you have, the ability to bond with a dragon. But of that amount, even fewer can actually speak Dragonese. Even after they bond with a dragon, they can only communicate like we are doing now."**_

"Woah, that's a lot to take in Toothless." Hiccup stated, pausing to try and make sense of it all. "You're saying that I had the ability to talk to dragons anyway, but that because I'm bonded with you, I can do it easier? Do you know how crazy that is?"

" _ **Says the two-legs talking to a dragon and listening to the reply in his head."**_ Toothless replied.

"Sarcasm? I'm rubbing off on you far too much, bud." Hiccup groaned. "But ok, sure. I guess this makes things easier for the plan anyway. Maybe if I can talk to the Nightmare, it won't kill me, right?"

" _ **I still hate your additions to this plan."**_ Toothless grumbled. _**"You're too much at risk. We should just fly away now."**_

"I know you don't like it, bud, but I've got to try. If I can convince them all that dragons aren't the real enemy, that the Queen is the only one we need to worry about, then we could end this war! And if I can't, then we put Plan B into action." Hiccup argued.

" _ **Plan B is just as bad as Plan A!"**_ Toothless snarled, tail whipping around in agitation. _**"You stupid two-legs, you will get yourself killed! And then where will I be?!"**_

Hiccup stopped, realising what Toothless had just said. He was the only thing between the Night Fury and a slow, painful death. If his plan failed, Toothless would die.

"I won't die." There was a calm, yet authoritative tone in Hiccup's voice. "I know what my plan runs the risk of, Toothless, but I promise you that I won't fail. In five days' time, we'll either be the heroes of the village, or outcasts. But whatever happens, we'll be together."

The dragon had no response, but instead trudged over to the boy and nuzzled him. Hiccup's arms found their way around his companion's neck, and the two merely stood for several moments.

Eventually, it was time for Hiccup to go. He could not be absent from the evening meal anymore, as people would actually notice if he wasn't there. As he walked through the woods back to the village, he could not help but feel a little buoyed. He would make this right, one way or another, in only a few days.

-The Great Hall-

Hiccup should have known that something was going to come of his victory in dragon training, namely between himself and his cousin. So, he shouldn't really have been surprised that Snotlout managed to engineer a situation between the two of them that Hiccup couldn't really have walked away from. Although Snotlout wasn't really the manipulative criminal mastermind type, he was the kind of Viking that liked to boast loudly in a public place to make himself seem heroic and manly. That is to say, he was a traditional one.

"Of course, everyone knows that I'm the true Viking of the two of us." The young Jorgenson boasted as Hiccup walked into the hall. "Dragon training is only the tip of the ice berg. Sure, the twig can work some kind of voodoo magic around em, but I've never seen him lift an axe! And don't even get me started on his drinking!" The boy went on.

Unlike most of the world's civilisation, Vikings didn't have a huge problem with their youth drinking. It was customary for those younger than twelve winters to partake in the occasional drink-fest, but mostly they drank small quantities, or weaker drinks than everyone else. Hiccup's classmates however, at fifteen winters, had been drinking for three years now. Hiccup himself had never liked mead or ale, but had discovered he had some form of aptitude for drinking, which was useful for inter-tribe events where he was required to drink by some higher power.

As he strode past the others noticed him, and Tuffnut nudged Snotlout, giving the ringleader a not so subtle nod in Hiccup's direction. If Hiccup had been looking, he would have seen the grin forming on his rival's face.

"Hiccup dear cousin?" Snotlout called, his voice too sweet to be normal. Hiccup groaned internally and slowed his pace, turning to face his cousin.

"What, Lout?" He asked, barely withholding the sigh that threatened to escape him. He was dimly aware of his father making his way towards him, but remained focused on Snotlout.

"I was thinking, cuz." Snotlout began, and Hiccup really couldn't help himself.

"Well, that's a first." He drawled, and felt satisfaction in the chuckles that his remark brought from the onlookers nearby. Snotlout's face formed into a scowl briefly, before smoothing out into a passable smile.

Hiccup had to say, he was enjoying being able to annoy people without being attacked. He had always had a way with words, but now he found new delight in a combat that was previously inaccessible to him, and he found that he excelled in it.

"As I was saying," The Jorgenson growled. "I think it's time that me and you had our first drink off." Hiccup's stomach flipped slightly, knowing full well that he couldn't walk away from such a challenge. His mouth went dry, but seeing his cousin's smile steeled his resolve.

"Snotlout!" Boomed the voice of Stoick the Vast. Hiccup didn't know whether to feel buoyed or terrified. His father could force him into this, or he could forbid it, but risk looking too protective and making Hiccup a fool. He awaited the verdict. "What a fine idea!" Yelled the chief to the hall, and instantly cheers arose. Hiccup's heart sank.

A table was set up for the two adolescents, and Hiccup knew that this was perhaps a grander stage than the arena would be in only a few short days, as it marked the beginning of his transition to adulthood. He could already see the shine that signified money being passed in as the older Vikings placed bets in the least discrete manner possible, which entailed shouting and waving their fistful of coins around. There were many sceptical glances in his direction, which for once in his life Hiccup was glad for. It resembled normality, as no one dared to speak outright against Hiccup in Stoick's presence, but they weren't exactly subtle about their doubts.

The first flagons arrived at the table, with four being deposited at each end. The boys strode around to face each other from across their platform, Snotlout swaggering about, and Hiccup standing quietly, judging the spectacle that he was about to take part in.

"All right!" Roared Gobber, who had decided to umpire a sport that really required no rules, but apparently Hiccup's mentor had a flair for dramatics as he quickly took to directing the crowd to the benches that were now gathered around. "I wan' a nice, clean game. Remember, the dirtier yer insults, the better for us, but don' go spewing all yer drink all over the place. Odin knows that Greta won' appreciate tha'." Everyone's heads swivelled to the Chief Cook of the village, who shook her head and smiled, although her eyes held a shred of menace.

Snotlout was the first to reach for a flagon, and theatrically brought the rim to his lips, gulping the somewhat sweet liquid down. There was a smattering of chuckles from the older Vikings, but when Snotlout placed his half-empty flagon down and glanced at Hiccup, all eyes trained to him.

The young Haddock sighed, rolling his eyes as he reached for his first flagon. Deciding to forego the theatrics, he threw his head back as he drank, emptying the cup in a few gulps to a couple of murmurs. Snotlout's eyes widened slightly, before he set his face and finished his own cup impressively quickly.

Hiccup was aware of the other Vikings in the hall reaching for their own drinks, believing that this was not a game that would end quickly, and the atmosphere in the hall lightened considerably.

The pair remained at their table, Snotlout in smug contempt and Hiccup in faint amusement. They reached for their second drink almost simultaneously, and then it became a race to finish first. Hiccup tried to tell himself that he didn't care, but a part of him was truly invested in winning this competition, however friendly and informal it may be. To his dismay, his cousin's flagon hit the table seconds before his own, and the smug look on Snotlout's visage increased.

It was then that Hiccup noticed that his classmates were all stood around Snotlout, showing unanimous support for the tormentor over the tormented. Hiccup's brow raised.

'If that's how it's going to be.' He thought to himself.

"So, Lout," He began, no tremor detected in his voice as the drink gave him courage. "How's it feel with Tuff's nose lodged in your breeches?"

There was a slight pause before a large guffaw sounded from the crowd, particularly Gobber. For his part, Tuffnut remained unsure of whether or not he had been indirectly insulted before Fishlegs explained it to him quietly. Snotlout looked at Hiccup with shock, not having expected such a bold beginning from his opponent, but then a lazy grin settled on his face that promised humiliation to come.

Both participants reached for their third, neither looking any worse for wear, although Viking ale wasn't the most potent of alcohols.

"Is that all you have for me, Hiccup?" Taunted the Jorgenson. "I'll be honest, I expected better from you. All that time spent indoors and you can only come up with that?"

The crowd sensed the beginning of the true fun, watching the verbal spar like a riveting game of Bashyball, waiting to see who would move next. Hiccup winced internally, but let nothing show on his face but amusement.

"Aye, I spend a lot of time indoors. I work Snotlout, remember that thing that you don't do? It's what everyone else does while you sit on your rear." Hiccup knew it wasn't the strongest of comebacks, but it served the purpose of deflection.

Snotlout was unfazed as he began to drain his third flagon, gulping down mouthfuls at a time.

"Who needs to work when you've got this much raw Vikingness?" He boasted, and instead of disappointed groans, he received chuckles and a small bout of applause as he struck a heroic pose. "You work in a forge but you still don't have muscle." The Jorgenson teased.

Hiccup felt his face flush at that one. While he did have muscle on him, it was lean and hidden by his baggy clothes, a by-product of Stoick's hopes for a brawny heir. There wasn't really a suitable comeback, and so Hiccup remained silent, finishing his third drink and reaching for his fourth.

"Oh! Does anyone else hear that? That blissful silence?" Snotlout asked, looking to the crowd. "I finally shut the useless up."

Stoick frowned in the crowd. While it was customary for the participants to insult each other, the use of that word annoyed him. It was unbecoming for a future chief to be known as Hiccup the Useless, and had the competition not been on, he might have had a word. As it was, he could only stand and observe as the crowd around him laughed.

Any laughter was cut short as an empty flagon flew through the air, making a satisfying thunk as it hit Snotlout in the side of the head. Every head in the room turned, to see Hiccup, red in the face, swaying slightly, and shaking. The drink was clearly affecting both boys more than they had expected, which might have had something to do with the fact that they had drank quickly to impress the village. And maybe a bit more to do with the fact the Gobber had added something a slight more potent to each of their drinks.

Snotlout remained dumbstruck, swaying, and glancing between the empty flagon and Hiccup. Or rather, where Hiccup had been. The boy in question was now staggering for the door, muttering to himself. He reached the threshold before anyone even considered moving, and tottered outside into the night. Stoick the Vast sighed before lifting his head and laughing loudly to the village.

"Kids!" He roared, while his eyes sought out Gobber. The blacksmith nodded, and the chief mouthed his thanks, something rarely done, as Gobber set out to look for his apprentice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Hello. I apologize for the delay in this chapter, but the horrible thing about the world is that something always pops up that prevents you from doing what you want. Ah well, I have a nice long summer to enjoy my writing and my uni degree even factors in Creative Writing so hopefully I won't be letting go of this project any time soon. I hope you all enjoy, please feel free to leave a review on what you think of everything and what you think I could improve on!**

AN: Hiccup's Dragonese is not yet perfect, so for the benefit of the reader I have translated what he tried to say and not what he actually said. For the benefit of the reader: Italics and Bold represents the bond between Toothless and Hiccup, and regular Italics is used for Dragonese.

-The Haddock Residence-

Hiccup awoke with a pounding headache, completely unsure of his surroundings. He dimly remembered Gobber catching up with him before he had made it twenty feet from the Hall, and his insides were gripped by the cold embrace of ice. What if he had told Gobber about Toothless? Even just the hint that the Night Fury was on the island would have the whole village in uproar. The logical side of him said that he was being unreasonable, that Gobber would have simply laughed it off as a drunken fantasy. However, logic is not one of the qualities that Vikings possessed at the best of times, and even Hiccup's had deserted him in the enthral of his first real hangover.

He shook his head to try and clear it, moaning in pain when the rapid movement made it worse, eyes firmly shut against the light seeping in through the window. All he wanted to do was crawl back inside the covers, curl up, and remain there all day. The scent of the stew that his father was cooking downstairs was far more potent than normal, and it made Hiccup's stomach churn to even think about eating.

The thud of heavy footsteps shook him out of his perpetual state of self-pity and regret as Stoick the Vast's imposing figure ascended, standing in his doorway. There was a hearty chuckle.

"Aye, I remember my first morning too." The gargantuan Viking said, with mirth dancing in his eyes, his usually stony face split slightly in a grin. "Still, life goes on, especially for us Haddocks. Breakfast is downstairs, extra chunky, so come and get it down ya, boy." The shadow of the chief moved, letting more light enter Hiccup's vision, and the young Viking shifted, groaning.

-Downstairs-

Hiccup gingerly moved down the steps, entering the main living space of the house. His head still hurt, and everything took slightly longer to process, leaving him befuddled by simple things. One thing that he understood with clarity, however, was that he really didn't want to eat.

"I'm suddenly not hungry." The boy complained, only to have his stomach betray him as it gurgled loudly. It was a strange and unwelcome feeling, to be hungry yet not want to eat, and Hiccup felt as though his insides were twisting in confusion, receiving mixed messages from his stomach and his head.

Stoick chuckled. "Nonsense, you'll be fine after you eat. It's just working up to it that's the trouble. Approach it like you do in the ring, like it's a dragon that needs to be taught a lesson."

Hiccup's stomach twisted again, in guilt rather than from the hangover. The pride in Stoick's voice was unmistakable, yet so unfamiliar. Part of him wanted to revel in it, to keep up the charade, and the other part wanted to come clean, to earn it the right way. The result was an emptiness that didn't sit right with Hiccup, but he held his tongue and steeled his resolve. He would be gone soon, if all went according to plan. But before he could do anything he needed to rid himself of this Odin-forsaken hangover.

His father handed him a flagon, but instead of mead or ale, this one held a potent slop that was the most unworldly drink that Hiccup had ever seen.

"Family secret," The older Viking said, tapping his nose. "Wash the broth down with that and you'll be right as rain in no time."

Hiccup's nose screwed up as he sniffed it again, and he promptly ran to the nearest bucket, relieving himself violently. He looked up sheepishly to see a smile on Stoick's face.

"Or you could just do that, I suppose."

Hiccup gave a weak, rueful smile as he glanced up from the bucket. He stood slowly.

"I think I might be alright now," He said, pausing before asking, "There was more in those flagons than the usual stuff last night, wasn't there?"

Stoick only smiled, pouring out the lumpy stew into two bowls, setting each down on the table.

"You made quite the impression last night, son." The huge Viking said, although Hiccup couldn't tell whether that was a good thing or not. "A lot of the folks were surprised at your actions, but most saw it as strength. You acted decisively enough, maybe rashly so, but you had drink in you so that's to be expected. But you gave them hope last night, Hiccup. Hope that there may yet be a future for Berk, with you as their chief."

Hiccup was blown away. Never had he considered that people might want him as their leader. Tolerated him and recognised that it was his birth-right, to be sure, but actually wanting him to govern them? He felt a familiar wave of guilt wash over him as the weight of his actions bore down on his shoulders. How ironic that once he was good at dealing with dragons, all of his negative traits suddenly became so positive. His wit and sarcasm that had only ever brought disapproving stares? Now actually appreciated and laughed at by the same folk that had reproved his words. His overall presence? Now actually desired by a select few, and definitely not as scorned as he used to be. Slowly but surely, Berk was warming to their heir. It had taken them fifteen long years to do it, but it was happening.

He took his place at the table, and father and son lapsed into comfortable silence, as Stoick watched his son attempt to force some food down his throat. His body clearly protested, but after the initial mouthful it was easier, and soon Hiccup had managed to eat half of the contents of the bowl.

"So, any plans for the day, lad?" Stoick asked, keen to see what his son's response would be.

As expected, Hiccup groaned.

"I don't want to think about it right now, dad." He complained, although the question gave him pause, as he put down his spoon and abated into thought. After a moment of consideration, the reply came with more vigour than Stoick had expected.

"I've got training to do." Declared the young heir.

-The Cove-

"Oh, Toothless." Called the scrawny Viking as he edged his way into the cove. He had finished eating and made his excuses, with his father promising that no one would disturb him in the forest unless they had need of him in the Forge.

The Night Fury slunk into view, still not used to his altered sleeping pattern. Night Furies, from what Hiccup had worked out, were mostly nocturnal, which made sense due to their colouring. So for Toothless to have changed his schedule to match Hiccup's gave him happiness in many respects. Then again, it wasn't like the dragon had much choice. The only exercise that his wings would get would be what Hiccup could provide, and he couldn't exactly spend every night flying.

" _ **Good morning, two-legs."**_ The Night Fury yawned. He slowly padded up to Hiccup, who rubbed the dragon's head affectionately. They stood together, simply appreciating each other's presence for a moment, equally aware of the trials that they would face in the coming days. Then, they separated, meeting each other's eyes and steeling their resolve.

"So, Dragonese, huh?" Hiccup started, broaching the topic of discussion from the previous day. Toothless gave him a gummy smile.

" _ **Yes. You've heard the sounds that dragons make towards each other, yes?"**_ The Night Fury asked, and Hiccup marvelled at his companion's grasp of Viking language, he assumed it was for some mystical reason that Toothless had learned so fast. _**"Not quite magic, but our bond has sped up the process."**_ Toothless assured him, and Hiccup started, having forgotten that they could sense what each other were thinking.

"Will that work the same way for me, then?" The boy enquired. "Will I pick up Dragonese quicker?"

" _ **I think so,"**_ Was the reply. _**"But not many speak our language. I've never met a two-legs that can. It also helps that you are a very bright two-legs, and I'm far above the average dragon."**_ At his last words, the mighty Night Fury puffed out his chest, appearing regal as ever but for the draconic smirk at the corner of his mouth. Hiccup decided he had rubbed off on Toothless a fair bit.

"Right," He began, rubbing his hands. "Where do we start?"

And so, boy and dragon began the long process of learning and teaching respectively the language of the dragons. You see, Dragonese, much like any other language, is complicated, but unlike any other language, it is not meant for the human vocal system. Hiccup was indeed as Toothless said; unique. His vocal chords somehow had the capability to mimic each and every sound in the draconic dialect, which they chalked up to the involvement of higher powers. Hiccup had prayed his thanks to the gods when he realised.

Once he had grasped the concept that he alone would be able to communicate with dragons in this manner, a part of Hiccup was saddened. His initial reaction was unbearable amounts of joy as, after all, finding one's place and realising that one is truly unique is an occasion that no words can describe, but amidst all of the selfish happiness, there was a tinge of regret. He wouldn't be able to share this knowledge with anyone, no matter where he ended up, unless he found another person blessed by the gods. But even then, he felt honoured to have such a responsibility placed on his shoulders. Because that was what it was. A responsibility. He felt obligated to leave now. He could travel the world, befriend as many dragons as possible, start a new life.

Toothless, sensing Hiccup's glee, became absorbed in it, and the two giddily spoke of the adventures they might have. The whole time the Night Fury pushed Hiccup to speak in Dragonese, correcting him occasionally so that when the plan went into action the boy didn't offend any dragons. Messing up common phrases and forgetting dragon etiquette would not earn him any points.

That was another surprising thing. Toothless was very knowledgeable about nearly all kinds of dragons, even some that Hiccup hadn't heard of before. And each species and sub-species had their own variation of greetings and mannerisms. It was a lot like the different tribes, Hiccup reflected. They all spoke the same common tongue, but the way they went about their lives was ever-so-slightly different. He could have spent years trying to learn it all, and he probably would once he left, but eventually their session had to end.

Before leaving his friend, Hiccup climbed on Toothless and the two went for a quick flight, far enough from the island to avoid being seen, but not far enough to get caught up in trouble. They spent their flight discussing the ever-changing plan, working out all of the minor details, ironing out the creases. By the time the two landed, they had a very good idea of how the next few days would go, providing that the village didn't interfere.

-Three Days Later, The Day of the Final Test-

Hiccup had been reclusive all week. He knew that. But he also knew that this had only served to make the entire tribe more curious about his tactics for the ring. This was carefully calculated, and the young heir had been subtly hinting to the village that they were in for a show, and that they should all wait to see how it played out, no matter what. Even his father and Gobber had received no more than these cryptic comments, and it seemed that the whole village was waiting with bated breath.

He had woken up to an empty house, having had a long talk with his father the night before about making his appearance. They had agreed that arriving at the hall for breakfast was a bad idea, especially when Hiccup revealed that he was trying to appeal to the dramatic side of the tribe, as Vikings did tend to enjoy theatrics. It was a shame that this play wouldn't end in the way they were hoping. At least they would remember him.

He ate quietly, before heading upstairs to put on his newly-sewn outfit. Although a few other Vikings had chipped in with pieces here and there, no one had seen the finished product. It was almost jet black, with detailing on the shoulders that resembled scales that matched the ones that coated Toothless' body. The boots, like the rest of the suit, were fur lined and as waterproof as Viking clothing could be, and although it wouldn't be used today, there was a hood that slipped out of a compartment on the back for any occasions where Hiccup's head became cold or he needed to hide his visage. The main thing that Hiccup noticed, however, was how well the whole thing fit. He was used to baggy clothes, ones that hung from his small frame, but this new suit made him look much better proportioned. It was possible to make out his lean muscles, nothing like the bulk that the rest of the village seemed to have, but slightly impressive for his size nonetheless. In truth, the boy wouldn't have recognised himself when he looked in the mirror if not for is youthful face, still with the last remnants of baby fat, and his hair that hung low on his forehead.

At last, he picked up the helmet that had been given to him just last night, and a lump formed in his throat as he thought about his mother, whose legacy he would be tarnishing in just a couple of hours. The helmet, along with his father and Gobber, were the only things giving him pause about the whole plan, but he knew that he had come too far now to stop. The plan was already in motion, and he couldn't keep living this double life, putting Toothless at risk by the day and feeling miserable because of it. It was time for change.

-The Hall-

The hustle and bustle that usually filled the Great Hall was magnified, but that didn't prevent a complete lull in noise the moment that Stoick the Vast stepped through the door. People craned their necks to glance behind him, but no Hiccup followed. One look at the chief's face told them all that there was no cause for alarm, as the large man simply smiled and gave his greetings to all that he passed on the way to his table. In truth, the village had not seen him this happy in years.

The minutes stretched on, with each table adding to the buzz of speculation, wondering where Hiccup was. Many confidently confided in those around them that the boy was merely adding finishing touches to his weaponry or clothes, whilst others claimed to have seen him heading for the tombs of his ancestors to pay his respects and pray to the gods. Others still, mostly Snotlout, boasted that the boy had stage fright and wouldn't show. No matter the opinion, it was safe to say that everybody was talking about Hiccup Haddock.

As the talking gradually lulled, Stoick, having finished his meal, stood. At once, all attention diverted to him, awaiting the declaration that would send them all sweeping out of the hall towards the ring. The chief cleared his throat.

"Today marks a very special day for both my kin, and for this village. But I hardly need to tell you that." The man began, and a few of the crowd chuckled. "Let us descend to the Kill Ring, where we can watch the Final Test of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third."

As Stoick paused for effect, preparing to launch into an even greater speech, the hall erupted with the scraping of chairs and benches, as the eager Hooligans made their way to the Ring, jostling for the best seats. The chief just shook his head, smiling ruefully at the antics of his people. He could always do his speech later.

-The Kill Ring-

Hiccup hoped that he didn't look scared. For once in his life he hoped he could appear as the strong, confident person that he now knew he could be. The funny thing was, it wasn't the thought of the Nightmare waiting in its cage for him, it was more the thought of the couple of hundred Vikings outside baying for blood to be spilled. It was the look of disappointment that he knew he would receive, that would then turn to anger at his actions, that terrified him. If his plan went as intended, he would probably become the most wanted person in the archipelago. Was it weird that he hoped it went right? Gobber stomped up to him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, lad, it's finally time. Go put on a show for 'em, in a few minutes you'll be a new Viking." The blacksmith looked like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it, patting him on the shoulder. As Hiccup's teacher, he was required to be down in the entrance to the Ring to check his equipment, as no trainees were allowed their own weapons, they had to choose from the rack inside, which he wished he would have known when he was forging all of his equipment. Still, at least it appeared that he had a small collection of weapons waiting for their first use back at home, giving the impression that he intended to pass the test and slay dragons. Hiccup wondered how well that the rule would have gone down with Astrid. She had broken many wrists in the village that were reaching for her axe and separating her from it was generally regarded as a bad idea.

"Nice suit." Gobber grinned, before jogging off to take his place at the top next to Stoick.

Just like that he was alone. Except for the attendant in charge of opening the gate for him of course. The baying got louder, but Hiccup could barely hear it. His mind retreated in on itself, tuning out the noise until it was merely a buzz as he entered a state of tranquillity. A consciousness brushed against him, and he reached out with his own, feeling the familiarity of it. After a few deep breaths he pushed away, opening his eyes and squaring his shoulders.

"I'm ready." He said.

The creaking of the gate as the cranks turned only served to worsen Hiccup's nerves. He had plenty of time to run through every possible outcome should his plan go wrong as the entrance was slowly opened to him. He could feel his right leg bouncing slightly as the energy overcame him and sweat began to bead on his forehead. Reaching up with his left hand, he wiped his brow and placed his new helmet on his head. Adjusting it slightly, and flashing a nervous smile at the gatekeeper, he strode forwards.

Emerging into the Kill Ring felt different now that he was the only one in it. The space seemed much larger without the other teens and their bulky teacher. Unlike the other tests, there were no obstacles whatsoever, providing no cover and no place for cunning traps, presumably because the Nightmare was so much bigger than the other dragons. A lone weapon rack stood off to one side, and Hiccup instinctively moved towards it, to much encouragement from the crowd. As he walked, he glanced at the crowd, seeing the other teens right at the front just to the left of his father's throne. The cheering from the crowd was unfamiliar to him, but he acted as if nothing was wrong, even grinning up to his father.

As he approached the weapon rack, the crowd quietened down, waiting to see what their heir would take on a Monstrous Nightmare with. Scanning the rack, there wasn't actually a lot that he could lift and use with ease, so he selected the small hunting knife. The irony was not lost on him, as he was unable to kill Toothless with a knife like this, and now he would refuse to kill a Nightmare with the same weapon. History repeats itself, as his grandfather used to say.

He could hear the murmuring at his choice, even Stoick himself was slightly taken aback, but upon seeing his son's stance, he waved to the crowd to quieten them. Standing up, Stoick began to speak, the authority of a chief present more so now than ever in his voice, alongside the fatherly pride.

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third!" Hiccup's father began, and suddenly Hiccup felt like he was being sentenced rather than celebrated. "You stand in front of your tribe, the best of your age in the Ring, ready to take the final test and become one of us."

Stoick paused to give Hiccup a reassuring smile.

"You have had time to make your preparations. Are you ready?" There it was, the point of no return had finally arrived.

"Yes." Came the confident reply, and Hiccup was relieved to hear no tremor in is voice.

Stoick nodded, satisfied by the assured response, and gave the signal. The doors to the Nightmare cage were slowly unlocked.

"Then let the final test… Begin!" Boomed the chief.

Whatever cheering had begun was lost on Hiccup as the door to the Nightmare pen burst open, with its occupant screeching and bellowing as it shot forward. Now, a Monstrous Nightmare is a terrifying sight, and no matter how much Hiccup had prepared for this moment, he could not help but feel the smallest bit of fear as the beast thundered around the Kill Ring, lit up in all of its glory. Villagers ducked out of the way of the bursts of flame that were sent their way, jeering at the dragon all the while.

Then, the Nightmare paused, hanging upside down from the top of the cage. Slowly, its head swivelled to face Hiccup, who still hadn't moved. This wasn't from fear, but rather from strategy. The intention was to put the 'fight' in plain view of the village. As the dragon descended, it revealed sharp rows of teeth, and for a horrifying moment, the entire village believed the dragon to be smiling at Hiccup. The thought was expelled quickly enough, because it was common knowledge that dragons weren't capable of emotion. But the odd thing that many noticed was that Hiccup, too, was smiling.

The beast lowered itself to the ground, advancing on Hiccup, who marvelled at its colouring. He was a vivid red with splashes of orange all over, and a few deeper red highlights adorning his back. Although it was clear that he had been underfed, there was a majesty to him that Hiccup knew lay in all of dragon-kind.

" _Greetings, dragon-tongue."_ Said the Nightmare, whom Hiccup knew as Hookfang. _"Is everything going well?"_

Before Hiccup could reply, Hookfang lunged, forcing Hiccup to dodge. He rolled out of the way, placing the dagger in his left hand even though he had no intention of using it.

" _I think so."_ Hiccup said, his Dragonese not quite developed enough to elaborate. _"They believe we are fighting."_

He jumped over a lazy tail swipe and slashed at Hookfang, who nimbly backed away, snarling.

The village were indeed buying the act, and as the boy and dragon exchanged pleasantries, the crowd were cheering in excitement.

" _Fools."_ Spat Hookfang distastefully. Hiccup couldn't have agreed more. He just hoped that no one noticed that not all of the dragon noises were coming from the actual dragon, and he was aware that he probably sounded quite ridiculous to any onlooker that was paying attention to him.

They continued their game of cat and mouse for a few moments, before a glance at the audience told Hiccup that they didn't have much time. The Vikings were eager for their champion to kill the Nightmare.

" _Ok Hookfang, time for the next bit. Remember what I told you?"_ Hiccup asked, nodding in the direction of the other pens. The dragon gave a wicked smirk, and promptly burst into flames once again, startling everybody but Hiccup.

There were gasps and shouts, as the Hooligans worried for Hiccup's safety, and even from within the ring Hiccup could see his father's knuckles whiten as Hookfang leaped around, splashing his gel all over the locks for the other pens. He then turned on Hiccup, snarling and releasing jets of flame at him, enough to look real but always give the boy ample time to react.

Now, the vital step in Hiccup's plan went into action. He broke into a run, sliding under Hookfang completely and rolling out on the other side. Although this looked like a plucky escape from the young heir, it was actually a marker for which pen to target first. Hookfang swiftly turned and fired off a loose jet of flame at Hiccup. Or rather, the lock just to Hiccup's right that helped to contain the Gronckle.

In the nights leading up to the fight, Hiccup had entered the ring on his own, and spoken to each dragon through the doors, asking their names in broken Dragonese, and explaining a plan that would win their freedom. Initially, there had been objections, and a lot of distrust, but Hiccup had been patient and told his story, and the dragons couldn't dispute that he was speaking to them in their own language.

When he was able to speak to them without a cacophony of dissent, they had planned out how the 'fight' would go, turning the whole thing into a play rather than a brutal contest to the death. They had agreed that he and Hookfang would warm up the crowd, quite literally in some cases, before freeing the other dragons in a series of 'accidents' that were in true Hiccup style. Then, Hiccup would gauge the reaction of the village after presenting the dragons as calm and peaceful. If all went well, they could remain on Berk. But the outcome they were expecting was that the Vikings would brand him a traitor and attempt to kill them on sight, meaning that they would have to move pretty quickly to avoid a gruesome death.

Therefore, as the door to the Gronckle pen opened, Hiccup looked up to the faces of his peers, trying to judge how they were reacting. They were just recovering from the latest burst of Nightmare fire, and already many were pointing to the two dragons converging on Hiccup, shouting to Stoick to stop the fight.

The chief in question looked pained. He knew that he should stop the fight, throw himself into the ring, and slaughter the dragons where they stood, but it went against tradition, and Viking life was all about tradition.

In the end, the choice was made for him. Just before one of the Vikings around the edge made to slip through the chains and help the young heir, the boy called out to them.

"I've got this! Let me do it!" Came the shout, as Hiccup ducked under Hookfang's swipe, and hurdled the side-swiping Gronckle. Stoick and the rest of the village faced memories surging to the forefront of their minds.

A young boy no older than eight winters flashed a smile at his father saying those same words as he attempted to lift a war hammer, before dropping it into the weapon rack in Gobber's forge, causing the vast collection of weapons to clatter to the floor.

A slightly older boy showing off his latest fishing invention at the docks, with the same words, before burning down three ships when it misfired.

A much more recent memory of the watchtower crumbling into the ground after an encounter with a Nightmare and a Hiccup.

It was supposed to be a turning point, reflected Stoick. Today was to signify the end of Hiccup the Useless, and the start of Hiccup the Daring, or some other positive adjective. Stoick would settle for Hiccup the Competent if it meant that his son survived today. But he had to do it alone. He was requesting to do it alone. Stoick made his call.

"Stand down! Stand down!" He yelled, and the villagers paused. "Be ready to help him, but if the boy wants to try for two, who are we to stop him!" The chief cheered, and the Hooligans took up the cry.

Down in the ring, Hiccup could have cried. His father had listened to him, the village wanted him to succeed. And he was preparing to throw it all back in their faces in one move that went against every Viking rule.

" _Hookfang! Get those other cages open!"_ He hissed, dodging the Gronckle, whose name was Meatlug, as she made a very convincing attempt to catch him.

" _But if we let the others out the humans will come!"_ The Nightmare snarled, pretending to stalk Hiccup around the cage.

Hiccup thought for a moment, a feat which is hard to accomplish whilst performing in front of one's peers and 'fighting' two dragons simultaneously.

" _Ok, we have to be fast. We'll get one chance."_ Hiccup said. _"Hookfang, on my mark, you need to open the other three cages as fast as possible. Then I want you all to stand perfectly still around the edges of the Ring ok?"_

The dragons more or less figured out his plan through the broken Dragonese, and although they disliked it, they had no choice but to go along with it.

Hiccup threw himself under a swipe from Hookfang that came a little too close for comfort, and the crowd gasped and winced, cheering once they realised the heir was unharmed.

As he continued to roll, the Nightmare barrelled towards the remaining cages and splashed his gel all over the hinges. Before the Vikings could react, Hookfang was once again ablaze, and the cages containing the other dragons were open.

At once, complete chaos erupted, as the newly freed beats thundered around the Ring, despite the best attempts of Hookfang and Meatlug to try and calm them. The crowd shrieked, fearful for the life of the heir to their tribe and also for the lives of those around them. Many were already brandishing weapons and rising from their seats, only to be shoved back by bursts of fire.

Hiccup had completed his roll, placing himself in the middle of the Ring. He had perhaps a moment or two before Stoick led the charge and slaughtered all of his new friends. He took a breath, composed himself, and set his shoulders straight.

The unearthly howl that followed gave pause to the entire scene.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A/N: Thank you so much for the continued support on the series! I'm posting Chapter 6 and 7 today, but I can't guarantee continuous updates, I'm trying to work on one fic at a time, and this one is unfortunately not my priority at the moment.

-The Kill Ring-

Every man, woman, and child, every dragon, all turned to face the young Viking in the middle of the Ring. He lowered his hands from where they had been cupped around his mouth as he gazed around, meeting the eye of everyone in the crowd.

"Now that I have your attention." The boy drawled, but the audience that he held captive could almost see the desperation within him. His voice had remained much the same, still nasally and full to the brim with sarcasm, but there was a tone that suggested a plea of urgency, as if he didn't want to do whatever was coming next.

"I was going to do this the easy way," The heir continued, addressing the motionless crowd, a tinge of regret creeping in. "But it appears to me that none of you are in the right state of mind to have the talk that I had imagined."

It was true, the population of Berk had found themselves slipping out of their bloodthirsty trance when Hiccup had sounded his dragon call. For that was what it had been. A yell so terribly draconic and loud that many had been afraid that a dragon even more dangerous than those in the Ring was upon them.

"I was going to try and reason with you, you know." Hiccup said, searching out a few faces in the crowd. "Try to tell you that this war could end right now, if only you were all willing to listen."

"Hiccup." Stoick had found his voice again. "What is the meaning of this?"

The dragons in the Ring remained still, as they had been instructed to, but a few snorts and warbles resonated around the space, as if they found something funny.

"We don't need to fight them, father." Hiccup said, gesturing to the now-tranquil dragons. "Let me show you." It was a desperate plea, and Hiccup knew that it would fall on deaf ears.

"Don't need to fight them?" Stoick repeated in disbelief, and Hiccup knew then that his plan had failed. "Do you know how many deaths their kind is responsible for?" The chief continued.

"Dad, I know how this looks…" Hiccup began, his voice weakening slightly at the thought of addressing his father. He was cut off immediately.

"How it looks is irrelevant, Hiccup." The huge Viking said, anger lacing his tone. "The way it is, is that everything you have led us to believe is wrong."

Hiccup swallowed as the villagers began to nod, murmuring amongst themselves. This was not going according to plan. Not at all.

"You lied to us, boy." Stoick stated. Not an accusation, a fact. One that he could not deny. "All of this prowess in the Ring, mere tricks?"

Hiccup could see the internal war that his father was fighting, deciding what to do with him. Part of him wanted his father to scream at him, cast him out, but the other part of him wanted everything to work the way he had planned. For the Vikings to accept his words, that there was only one dragon that truly threatened them, and that all of the others meant well. However, this was a Viking village, the village of Berk no less, and stubbornness ran through every vein of the tribe.

"Traitor." The word was stated, spat vehemently by some anonymous member of the crowd. For a moment, Stoick looked as shocked as Hiccup felt. Then, on instinct, the impartial façade of the chief returned, just as Hiccup's calm one slipped away.

"Aye." The gargantuan man agreed gravely. "We have been betrayed by one of our own."

Hiccup wanted to protest, but he found himself trapped, and his singular voice was overruled by the many.

"He can't be one of us, Stoick, he sided with the beasts! We have no choice, either he goes or he dies. He can't remain a Viking after all of this! What would Val say?" Hiccup flinched as his uncle spoke of his mother. The sinister tone in Spitelout's voice was unmistakable, and the boy was suddenly afraid, his status as son of the chief wouldn't save him from a vicious beating should the crowd turn on him.

He asked himself why he had thought that he could do this, why he had imagined that he could change the entire village. He came to the realisation that he had allowed the events of the past couple of weeks to influence him, as the tribe made him believe that he was capable of being a strong, confident warrior. The sudden fall back to reality had left him in a state of helplessness, as no matter what angle the situation was viewed from, he was still Hiccup the useless. He had nothing.

" _ **Nothing but your dragons to your back**_." The furious voice of Toothless echoed in the boy's head. Hiccup started, either their bond was getting stronger, or the Night Fury had left the safety of the forest and was headed into the village.

" _ **Peace, two-legs."**_ Chided the black dragon. _**"I am safe and hidden. Do what you have to, we leave this place soon."**_

Although his partner could not possibly see him from the position that he was in, Hiccup nodded. He was aware now that the Vikings had been hurling abuse at him, and that his father was now demanding his attention.

"Hiccup Haddock! Raise your head, you insolent child!" The chief yelled and felt a grim satisfaction when the boy recoiled and obeyed on instinct. The crowd slowly fell silent, waiting on bated breath to hear Stoick's verdict. They seemed to have forgotten the silent guards that were the freed dragons, who sat docile yet attentive around the base of the ring.

"You stand accused of treason. You have betrayed your tribe and allied with the beasts that plague us. You have thrown your lot in with them, these foul creatures that have killed so many of your kinsmen. Your mother would be ashamed." Stoick the Vast spat, and the villagers gasped. It was the first time in years that the chief had mentioned his late wife in public.

Hiccup stared, numb. He hung his head, trembling slightly. The crowd began to jeer.

"Have you anything to say for yourself boy!" The chief roared.

Hiccup remained silent, tears trailing down his cheeks as he stood shaking.

"You are not one of us! You are not my son!"

That was the final straw. Hiccup lifted his head, eyes blazing in defiance.

"No." His voice was strangled, choked by grief. "I am not one of you."

There was a moment of confused silence before the boy went on.

"I have never been one of you. You've all seen to that. Taunting, bullying, violence. That's all that you people ever did for me. These creatures that you all hate so much showed me more kindness in a matter of days than you ever did in years." The words flowed, a cascade over the highest edge in the waterfall.

He turned to face Astrid, who had found a place at the front of the crowd.

"You once told me to figure out which side I was on." He paused, gesturing around him. "Well I figured it out." He said, voice tinged with venom, sounding anything but the peaceful boy that Berk had known. "Berk never wanted me, when all I wanted was to be a part of the tribe. To fit in. How ironic that the only time I manged to do so was when I was defying everything you all stand for."

"Silence!" Cried Stoick, voice laced with fury, eyes no longer full of disappointment but pure hatred as he stared down his son. He forced himself to calm down. He needed to give the boy a chance, maybe the beasts had swayed his young mind. Squaring his shoulders, the chief was aware that he didn't have long to make his decision, the crowd were turning on Hiccup, and soon there would be nothing he could do to prevent it.

"If you persist with these treacherous ways, you will be spared no mercy." He warned. "You will be outcast, no longer able to return to the village. We will no longer welcome you, nor any offspring you may go on to produce. Lay down this madness, let us kill the beasts, they're tainting your mind, boy."

The villagers murmuring, many believing Stoick, that Hiccup's actions were caused by the dragons. The boy simply wasn't himself. Even as these thoughts entered his head, the chief could see that Hiccup too was fighting an internal battle, perhaps greater than his own.

"I can't do that."

The words eliminated any shred of hope that Stoick clung to. Either the foul magic had been woven too thickly for them to break, or Hiccup was serious about siding with the dragons. For the boy to have chosen the scaly creatures that had killed his mother was unacceptable, and it showed the full extent of the dark abilities of the dragons. Resignedly, he worked up the energy to quieten the crowd, allowing his rage to build once more as he prayed to high Asgard that Val would think no less of him for this.

"Then hear me well, boy. You are hereby removed from Berk! You shall no longer be permitted here, you, nor your beasts, nor any of your descendants! Berk shall no longer recognise the name Hiccup, son of none. You are a disgrace. Get out of my sight." The chief growled.

The dragons stirred, as if on cue, as Hiccup stood in the middle of the ring. Hookfang let out a low rumble, and the Nadder, Stormfly, stiffened. The villagers, sensing a growing hostility among the freed beasts, shifted their weapons slightly higher.

"The boy makes to attack us!" Shouted a voice, one that sounded suspiciously familiar. "Kill him and the beasts! He's an outsider now!"

The crowd gave way to sheep mentality, taking their cue and charging forwards towards the Ring. Hiccup looked to Stoick, eyes wide and tears still streaking down his cheeks, and watched the chief turn his head away, unwilling to meet his disowned son's eyes. Realising that his father would be of no help, and that Gobber was perhaps the only Viking not willing to kill him at this particular moment, the distraught boy rushed into action. His tears and pain must be cast aside for the time being, there were lives at stake.

Screaming short, strangled commands in Dragonese, he flung himself upon Stormfly's back, directing her upwards. She willingly complied, but the pair soon ran afoul of the chains over the Ring.

" _Hookfang, Barf, Belch, buy us some time!"_ Hiccup called. _"But don't get caught!"_ He added.

The Nightmare and Zippleback nodded, letting off jets of flame to keep the Vikings from entering the Ring. Hiccup knew they wouldn't remain perturbed for long. The chains would prove a difficult obstacle to overcome, as although Stormfly's fire was hot enough to melt them, the Vikings on the ground wouldn't exactly allow them time to do so.

The only other option was to bolt for the gate when the Vikings eventually flooded through the opening, although it was a less than desirable course of action. It would seem as though that might be the only way, and whilst he was happy to let Stormfly flap and slowly melt the chains, he knew that they would have to do the unthinkable.

The loud clang of the gate breaking open could only just be heard as a draconic roar sounded. Hiccup frantically turned, finding the source to be Hookfang, who now had a spear protruding from his left shoulder. Hiccup saw red, and hoarsely called out a plan in barely passable Dragonese.

Either the other dragons understood, or they merely followed him, but as a unit the winged creatures turned and swarmed the newly opened gate.

They were met with heavy resistance, as each gargantuan Viking attempted to impede them, most with long spears or weighted axes that seemed to thrum in their hands, eager for blood to grace their tips.

Just as the two sides were about to meet, spines and fire flew towards the intercepting Hooligans, many being impaled or torched in the process as Hiccup and his new allies forced their way through. Hiccup saw more than one Viking go down, never to rise again, but he hardened his heart to their suffering. It was they who had cast the first stone. His stones were merely bigger and breathed fire.

The Vikings panicked in such close quarters, as the stench of death filled the air. This was not like a dragon raid. Raids happened in the village, in open ground, not in the confines of the tunnel between the two gates of the Kill Ring. Here they didn't have the space or the time to react accordingly. Here they had no chief to guide them, as the huge Viking warrior was on the other side of the Ring.

For many, the sight of their burning comrades was too much, and they gave in to a rage so deadly that their kin had to restrain them, as they set upon each other, howling in grief. Others were pinned by bodies and spines alike, as the dragons collectively pushed through the small gap and fled into open air.

Hiccup spared one last glance at the Ring and gazed in horror at the rising smoke and the catastrophic destruction that they had caused. He hadn't meant for any of this. If only they had listened.

Steeling himself, he turned Stormfly away, and flew back towards the village, hands over his ears in a weak attempt to stifle the sounds of fury that followed him, his father's bellow loudest among them.

-The Village-

Wingbeats filled the air as the small drove of dragons that followed Hiccup landed at the central plaza. Hiccup had counted on everyone being present at the Ring, and it seemed mercifully quiet. At least something had gone his way today.

The pounding of leathery feet broke the silence, as the Night Fury that Hiccup called his brother bounded gracefully over to them.

Hiccup didn't even wait for the dragon to come to a stop before he threw his arms around Toothless' neck and sobbed into him. The dragon's eyes filled with sympathy and sorrow, before he nudged the boy away.

" _ **Must keep going, two-legs, but we are nearly there."**_ Consoled the Night Fury. In truth, dragons weren't very good with emotions, and it was incredibly hard for Toothless to find the right words. But it was even harder to watch his boy suffer.

A sniffle drew the onyx dragon from his ruminations, as Hiccup wiped his nose with the sleeve of his tunic.

"No going back now." He whispered in Norse, and then did his best to switch to Dragonese for the benefit of those around him.

" _You are free now."_ He said, gesturing to them all, even the Terrible Terror, whom he had not seen in the Ring but was now unscathed before him. _"I thank you for your help, but you do not have to stay with me."_

" _With all due respect, Lord, I owe you a debt. A dragon does not take a debt lightly, but for the two-legs that risked everything for our kind, it is something that I am happy to do,"_ growled Hookfang, and the other dragons nodded their agreement.

" _You have set us free, Lord."_ The Nadder, Stormfly said. _"It is a terrible fate to be freed from the Queen's service, only to fall into a trap of the same nature. You have saved us, and for that you have our thanks."_

" _ **Be careful, two-legs,"**_ _w_ arned Toothless. _**"You do this, you become responsible for all of them. Although thanks from a Spiketail is a feat that you alone claim,"**_ the dragon said, his eyes twinkling.

Despite all that was going on, Hiccup still found it humorous that dragons referred to each other by their most distinguishing feature. Toothless had long since explained to him that the Norse names for dragons made no sense, aside from his own as it sounded far more majestic than 'Blackwing', which in fairness didn't sound too bad to Hiccup.

" _We shall stay with you until you have left this place."_ Hookfang stated, and the other dragons made chirps of agreement. _"From there we can decide where our paths lead."_

Wiping away the remnants of any tears, Hiccup began to move. He had a limited amount of time before the Vikings recuperated and charged to the village, meaning that he had to gather anything he wanted to take with him and leave immediately.

Turning towards the dormant blacksmith's shop, Hiccup sighed, fully aware that his mentor would now hate him, and that he would never be welcome here again. In fact, what he was about to do could almost be considered theft, if not for the fact that the things that he was taking were actually made with his own hands.

Pushing the door open, he was overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotion. Sadness, regret, frustration, all circled round and round, berating his mind until he could bear it no more. Gritting his teeth and holding in a yell, he quickly ransacked his back room, ridding it of any evidence that there had been a boy using the room at all. His papers, machines, all of it was discarded into a pile outside the smithy. He sorted through is possessions, taking only the tools that were necessary, and only the designs that couldn't be used to hurt dragons.

The rest was thrown on the pile, although Hiccup made sure that he left Gobber's things untouched, wanting to show a last sign of respect for the man that had raised him.

" _Torch it."_ He said, closing his heart to the anguish that he felt. No more would his inventions harm the winged creatures that had made his life so much more bearable. No more would he benefit the village.

Even still, he couldn't help but shed a tear as he watched his work burn. The dragons collectively let out small jets of flame, enough to lick the edges of the pile, and allowed the fire to consume it slowly. It was almost like a funeral pyre, and the young boy was touched at how the dragons seemed respectful of his belongings, although he wasn't sure that they knew that he had intended most of them to harm them originally.

Eventually, he tore his eyes from the blaze, and glanced at the chief's house, stood proud on the hill at the top of the village. If there had been anything of worth in there, he would have flown up there and destroyed that, too, but he was painfully aware that there was only a sketchbook containing drawings of the various Vikings of Berk, and those he could certainly live without. The rest of the things that he would need were already in the bag that he had packed for his previous attempt at fleeing the village.

He had gone over the list many times and had added to it nearly every time. Blankets, extra tunics, spare boots, small cooking items, everything that one would need to survive in the wild was contained within the bags that currently rested behind the smithy. In truth, Hiccup was glad that the other dragons were happy to stay with him, as he had planned on asking for their help in carrying his bags to the docks, where Toothless would have had to tow a ship out to sea. This way, they would be long gone before the Hooligans had time to even pick up a spear to throw at them.

Directing the dragons behind the smithy towards the bags, Hiccup didn't even need to explain, and he wasn't sure that he had the energy to. He noticed that every dragon carried an array of injuries except the Terror, the self-proclaimed Sharpshot, and of course Toothless, who wasn't present at the Ring. He resolved to treat them as soon as they found somewhere safe to land.

The largest three dragons; Stormfly, Hookfang, and the twin-headed Barf and Belch, all grabbed a sack, wrapped the straps around their forelegs and clutching the compartment section. Within seconds the small drove was ready to fly, and it was with a heavy heart and a confused head that Hiccup clambered atop Toothless, attaching his leg to the peddle.

With a short bark at the other dragons, Toothless opened his wings and raised them, pushing off the ground with perhaps more force than was necessary, but the dragon could sense the desire to leave Berk within his human, and their new allies. Four shapes rose beside them, as Sharpshot had taken it upon himself to perch on Meatlug. Without the need for speech, the group headed for open water, each doing their best to ignore the furious yelling that was getting louder and louder behind them.

Hiccup looked back at his childhood home for one last time, a mistake as it happened, as he could make out the entire population of Berk stampeding towards the retreating shape of the dragons, a mass of curses and abuse preceding them. All but one, that is, as just before they passed the large statues that stood at the entrance to the harbour, Hiccup felt a lone pair of eyes burning into his back. Twisting in his seat, he was shocked to see Gothi at the porch of her home. The expression on her face was not one of scorn, nor disgust, as he had expected. It was something else entirely. Thoughtful, most definitely, but there was a certain air to her that indicated something more positive. Hiccup squinted and could have sworn on Odin's underwear that the old healer was smiling ever so faintly, with a hint of pride about her. Rubbing his eyes, Hiccup looked again, and the old woman was nowhere in sight. Dismissing the whole thing as a hallucination, Hiccup faced the sea, and embraced the breeze.

He lasted perhaps a whole minute, during which time they flew in silence, the only noise to be heard was the crashing lull of the waves below, and the rhythmic beat of the wings around him, each with their own tempo. It all became too much for Hiccup, son of none, and he doubled over in the saddle, face pressed against the blanket that he had placed there, and sobbed.

 **Just a quick explanation here: Toothless' speech is intentionally missing some features, as I felt as though it wouldn't be right for him to speak perfectly within only a few days, no matter how mystical and powerful he may be. We might have a segment later on in the story where Hiccup takes some time to give him a few more lessons, but until then I will be dumbing down his speech a little unless he speaks in Dragonese.**

 **This is a little bit short due to it practically being chapter 5.5, but I felt that it was appropriate to split the chapter in two, showing Hiccup's transition slightly more, as well as keeping some form of consistency with chapter length. It's no good having one chapter at 4000 words and then another at nearly 10,000, which this one could have easily been. Until next time guys.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Than you guys for all of the support! This next arc is going to focus on Hiccup's journeys outside of Berk, visiting a key new territory that will change his life forever. I hope you enjoy!**

It was quite some time before Hiccup felt the last of his tears slide down his face, and it was even longer before he finally lifted his head from the saddle. When he did so, a glance at the dragons around him told him that they had been worrying about him. Nearly every draconic eye was trained on the young boy, and there were many reassuring croons coming from the small drove.

" _ **You are awake."**_ Remarked Toothless, and although the calm demeanour mostly hid the worry emanating from the black dragon, Hiccup could still tell that it was present.

"Yeah, I guess so." The solemn reply startled the dragon, who was unaccustomed to such a melancholic tone from the usually optimistic boy. Even worse was the question that followed.

"What are we going to do now, Toothless? I don't know the first thing about survival in the wild, and I don't even know where we are!" There was a desperation in his young charge that Toothless had never seen before, and it was quickly noted by the other dragons, who twitched and snorted restlessly in flight.

" _ **Calm, two-legs,"**_ the Night Fury admonished. _**"You are not alone in your journey. You have many able hunters with you."**_

If Hiccup wasn't focussed on his own distress, he might have noticed that Toothless' speech was beginning to sound much less stilted, but the poor boy was too panicked to revel in his findings.

"But I need to be able to take care of myself!" The ex-Viking protested. "And I think that the scene in the Ring proved that I can't do that!"

In less important situations the dragon might have simply huffed and rolled his eyes at the childish whining, but he knew from experience that self-pity was a dangerous path to follow at such a monumental crossroads. Reverting back to Dragonese so as to explain himself thoroughly, the Night Fury snarled.

" _And what makes you think that? Did you forget that you have gone where none have gone before, and done what none before you have ever done? Yes, you lack in physical aspects, but there is much more to you than that. Your best ally is your wit, and that which resides inside your head, else you would not have made it this far."_ Toothless growled.

Hiccup was stunned at the ferocity of his best friend, and for a moment he had no response. The other dragons also paused, and the air was devoid of wingbeats for just a second, as they finally understood the conversation that until that point had been in a foreign language from one party, and entirely silent from the other.

"Keep flying." Were the only words muttered by the outcast, before he lapsed into silence, his mind completely inaccessible to his partner.

As the world passed by, so too did the hours, and Hiccup allowed himself to take in the true beauty of his surroundings. Toothless was performing no manoeuvres that required direct attention, and so the boy relaxed slightly, his leg holding the pedal steady for Toothless to continue gliding on the more than welcome breeze directing them south.

He gazed at the sea below them, staring intently at the patches of green that seemed so out of place in such a deep blue complexion, wondering what the cause was, and why no one else had ever looked into it. Then again, he supposed that somewhere someone had, but Vikings were unlikely to care and unwilling to search for such trivial knowledge, as anything that didn't involve dragons or food was deemed unimportant.

The crash of the waves once again lulled him into a state of tranquillity and, on occasion, he thought that some of the shapes below the waterline shifted out of time with the rhythm of the white-capped hills. High as they were, Hiccup still felt the periodic spray of salt water hit him, though it did little in the way of dampening him.

The sky, too, held a semblance of reassurance. The clouds that, once upon a time, seemed so unattainable were now only a hairsbreadth away. It had startled him, at first, to know that they were not, in fact, of a solid form, and that they parted beneath his hand.

Eventually, Hiccup grew weary of anger, especially when it was directed at his closest companion. As he resolved to break the now-uncomfortable silence, it was done for him.

" _Their wings grow heavy, two-legs."_ Toothless stated, sensing Hiccup's return to the present. _"Captivity has taken its toll on them. They cannot fly far, especially when encumbered with your possessions."_

Guilt wracked the young boy, as he remembered that he was now responsible for more than just himself. Ironically, after giving up his future as a chief, he had become one.

" _I'm sorry,"_ he whispered in strangled Dragonese, his throat sore from hours of silence. _"Please, find us somewhere to rest."_

Toothless grunted, eyes scanning the horizon for any patch of land that would likely be devoid of humankind. His keen draconic vision soon picked out a smudge to the south east, which was as far away from Berk as any other direction but had the added bonus of leading the group away from the Nest. He made the other dragons aware of their destination, and together they adjusted their course, tilting the wings and bodies in tandem and wheeling towards the island.

It was bizarre for Hiccup, to have flown for mere hours and reach places that were still a day's travel by boat. To keep himself busy, and prevent another lapse of self-loathing, the boy tried to calculate where they were, how far they had flown, how long it had taken them, anything to preoccupy himself whilst his companions flew.

He summarised that it had been just after noon when they had made their escape, meaning that they had flown for around four hours, judging by the position of the sun in the sky, and it was now getting on towards what would be the evening meal back on Berk.

On a different day, there would have been nothing special about Berk's evening meal. It would have been like any other. But on the day of the Final Test of Dragon Training, there would have been a feast comparing only to that of Snoggletog, or the Chief's Birthday. Hiccup wondered what was happening there now. Would Snotlout have been named heir already? Would the village be celebrating the fact that the traitor was gone? Or would his father be preparing a fleet to pursue him in blind fury? They might even be preparing to attack the Nest.

Hiccup shook his head, it didn't matter now. He had a new family to take care of, and they needed a place to sleep for the night. They were still much too close to Berk, and were still within the Archipelago, so whatever camp they made would be temporary, probably only for a solitary night before they moved on.

They slowly drew closer to the island, and Hiccup realised that it was Berk's very own sacred place, where they took the arduous journey south to proclaim their everlasting love in a beautiful ceremony. The Island of Frigga, as it was known to some, seemed an awful long way even on dragon back, and Hiccup simply marvelled at the Vikings and their silly customs. Sure, it was nice to prove your dedication to your other half by sailing for nearly two days to reach a final destination where you end up in a bond that can't be broken even by Odin himself, but was it really too important to conduct back on Berk?

Fate, it can be said, has an artistic touch, and Hiccup found the irony hidden in the world as he prepared to leave behind his Viking life and embark on a new journey at the very same island that his former tribe would become their own clan within the village, cementing their place on Berk for years to come. Had he not been sincerely distressed he might have even smiled and pointed it out to Toothless, whom may not have been entirely sure why it was funny.

The dragons wheeled around in a series of overlapping circles, spotting a clearing large enough for them to land at. Hiccup instantly recognised the man-made space, noting that this was the spot that the marriage ceremony would take place, and could only wonder at the fact that a view from above really could change one's perspective of the world. He was reminded of the true scale of the world whilst on the back of Toothless, as if everything had seemed out of proportion on the ground, too small and clumped together with too much ocean in between the lands.

He was slightly uneasy at the thought of landing at the ancestral marriage place of his forebearers, as if he was committing some form of treason. In some way he was, by arriving there on the back of their biggest enemy after being cast out by his tribe. Then again, he was already a kill-on-sight target, something else he now shared with his draconic companions.

Hiccup moved swiftly as Toothless settled down, unclipping from the saddle and swinging off with practiced ease. He helped the dragons relieve their burdens as they piled the three packs up in a heap and collapsed, exhaling hard. He felt a pang of guilt at their suffering, he really should have been aware of the consequences of forcing them to fly for so long.

He knew that he should do something, anything, to keep himself occupied, and so he decided on collecting firewood. At least starting it up wouldn't be a problem, and though the dragons around him generated enough heat to stave off the winter chills, he thought it would only be proper.

Removing a small hatchet from one of the packs, he straightened up and headed for the copse of trees nearby, painfully aware of the watching dragons.

" _What is he doing?"_ Asked Barf who, despite having twice the heads of any dragon present, was unused to the ways of the humans.

" _I believe that he is collecting wood to make a fire."_ Stormfly suggested, her tone almost regal as she proudly revealed such knowledge. Toothless snorted and rolled his eyes.

" _Of course he is, he doesn't have an inner flame, and he certainly won't last the night without heat."_ The Night Fury said plainly.

Hiccup caught pieces of their conversation as he tried to hack off the low-lying branches of the nearby trees, but he wasn't really paying much attention. The physical exertion of the task was taking its toll on his small frame, and it was embarrassing that he couldn't accomplish such a menial task. Rather than resorting to gathering twigs and even smaller branches immediately, he continued his struggle. In fairness to Hiccup, the branch was almost thicker than he was wide, and why he had chosen this particular branch was a mystery to the winged onlookers.

" _Do we help him?"_ Meatlug asked, with something close to concern in her voice. The other dragons glanced at Toothless, waiting for his opinion. The black dragon sighed.

" _He thinks that he can't help himself or survive with his own skills."_ Toothless said. _"So, we will wait. Eventually he will tire and then he will realise that his brain is just as useful as the brawn of his kin."_

The dragons nodded in understanding, pride was at least something that they could comprehend, as they themselves were full of it. They resolved to settle themselves around the campsite, forming a loose perimeter around the clearing whilst they kept an eye on their young leader.

As Toothless had predicted, Hiccup eventually tired of his attempts to hack down the branches and turned away, throwing the hatchet in frustration with his left hand. To the general surprise of everyone in the vicinity, the axe flew straight and true, sinking into a tree trunk with a satisfying thunk.

The young Viking was far too frustrated to notice, but there was a gleam of triumph in the eyes of the Night Fury.

"Alright, I get it, I've learnt my lesson. I should have asked for help earlier." The boy complained. He then realised that he needed to switch to Dragonese and would most likely need to spend the next few days giving and receiving language lessons should any of the dragons choose to stay with them permanently.

" _I said I was sorry."_ He said, glaring at his best friend. Said dragon rolled his eyes at the glare, before pretending to use a huge amount of effort to rise to his feet.

Hiccup watched as Toothless gripped a low branch with his teeth, ripping it off with a crunch. The wound left on the tree was more than unsightly, as it was not the clean cut that a blade would have made, but rather a scar left by the Night Fury. In hindsight, Hiccup realised that he should probably focus more on survival than the poetic description of the wilderness, at least until he had his feet back under him.

"Gee, thanks." The boy drawled sarcastically, and he was met with a playful scowl. Toothless dropped the branch and stared him down. Both boy and dragon seemed to forget their telepathic bond, and Hiccup's ability to understand Dragonese as they merely waited, unable to convey a message either way.

" _He wants you to do the rest."_ Explained Meatlug kindly, and Toothless had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed that he had forgotten to communicate with his partner.

Hiccup nodded, but before he could venture to the tree to retrieve his axe, it was dropped at his feet by Sharpshot, who had torn it from the wood.

" _Thank you."_ He said kindly, reaching down to scratch the dragon's head.

He then set about breaking up the branch, hacking off the smaller twigs to use to start the fire, and then chopping the rest into segments to use to keep it burning. It was much easier to work when he was angling the axe downward rather than having to reach upwards whilst swinging, and Hiccup realised that he really shouldn't have expected any results when he had been unsteadily balanced on his toes when he was trying to relieve the tree of its branch.

The labour did him good, and although the dragons repeatedly offered their help, he asked them to leave him to do this. He could accept help if he really was unable to carry out the task, but at some point, he would need to build up strength and ability, something he could not achieve with six dragons mothering him.

Even after a few swings Hiccup could feel the burn in his muscles, which were painfully small, no matter how many times he managed to convince himself that he was just lean. In some ways, chopping the branch was somewhat akin to his work in the forge, and upon this realisation the task became much easier, and also very melancholic. He required some amount of strength to repeatedly lift the axe, just as he did with a hammer at an anvil. Then, he would need precision to make sure that the cut was clean, and that he hit each groove at the same angle, much like he would do when forming and shaping a blade.

All of this raced around the young ex-Viking's mind, and he realised that perhaps there was truth in Toothless' words, and that he was indeed capable of more than he thought. He had the skill, and a foundation on which to build his strength and physical ability, all he needed was the determination and the mental fortitude to allow himself to progress.

Toothless could have smiled as he peeked into his partner's mind, watching the boy as his strikes with the hatchet became more refined and smooth, the frown occupying his face evened out into something that almost resembled a grin. The crafty Night Fury began to think of ways that he could help his human to gain muscle, but his grasp of the human anatomy proved his downfall. Of course, he was aware that repetitive physical exertion was essential, but he could hardly force Hiccup to wrestle with him, and the boy had different muscle requirements for certain, as he had no wings. Dragons could often get by on wing strength alone, but Toothless had no idea which areas of his small companion needed to be stronger. Perhaps Hiccup would co-operate with him and allow the dragons to assist him.

Eventually, the work was complete, and a small dribble of lava-like fire was provided by Meatlug to start the campfire. The runaways gathered around it, more out of a sense of comradery than a need to stay warm, and they settled into a comfortable silence that eventually turned into a deep slumber.

-Berk-

The entire village was in uproar. Their new champion, the runt of the litter that had become their greatest protégé, had turned on them. Hiccup Haddock had aligned himself with the dragons over his own people.

Stoick the Vast surveyed the Great Hall with interest, noting the more avid speakers and the actions of those around them.

"I knew it!" Came the rickety, nasally voice of Mildew, astoundingly loud when the speaker's small body was taken into account. "I knew he wasn't a real Viking! We should hunt him down while we can, slay him and his beasts where they stand!"

There was a loud shout of agreement, and although the old man raised an interesting argument, Stoick could not help but feel displeasure, more so at the person than the words that spilled forth.

"An' how would we do tha'?" Boomed the voice of Gobber the Belch, who seemed to have taken Hiccup's betrayal harder than any of them, as the man's voice cracked and wavered with heartbreak. "The boy's got dragon flight! There's no ship in the Archipelago that can catch 'im now!"

There was a wave of assent as some of the more level-headed Vikings realised that they had no means of chasing down the disgraced heir, and that the matter was probably best left out of mind. Hiccup was far away by now, and he wouldn't be coming back, so there was no real issue.

"Alright, settle down!" Stoick intervened as shouting escalated between the two sides. Neither paid him any attention and so the colossal chieftain lifted his war hammer and brought it down on the stone floor with a mighty crunch, silencing the entire tribe.

Heaving the weapon back out of the floor, Stoick stood, making himself visible on the dais where the Chief's table stood.

"There will be no hunt for the traitor." He announced gravely, but before he could continue he was interrupted by Mildew.

"Ah you've gone soft Stoick!" The vindictive elder declared, drawing glares from many in the hall. "Just because he's your son doesn't mean we can't punish him properly!"

"I have already exiled one member of this tribe today, Mildew, and if you don't keep a civil tongue that number will rise to two." Stoick threatened, eyes stormy and expression stony. The older man shrank back at the severity of the glare, falling silent.

"As I was saying," the Chief continued, addressing the enraptured crowd. "There will be no hunt. Winter is on its way and there are mouths to feed. Wasting ships on a wild dragon chase will not benefit this village."

The irony was not lost on Gobber, who knew that some in the village thought that the endless searches for the nest also provided no benefit to the village as without fail the ventures were fruitless. However, he knew that they had to present a united front and get the tribe back on the same page, so he held his tongue.

"That is also why," Stoick continued, as if he had read Gobber's thoughts, "There will be no more attacks on the nest until further notice. We need to put everything we have into preparing our defences for the winter ahead."

The Hooligan tribe truly fell silent at that. No longer were any quiet whisperings heard in the hall at the Chief's announcement. Stoick the Vast was letting go of his hound-like pursuit of the Dragon's Nest, a prize that he had sought out ever since the loss of his wife. It was a monumental moment in which the tribe finally appreciated Stoick's immense physical strength, yet also his mental and emotional strength. Many felt sorry for their Chief, who had lost his immediate family to the winged creatures, but his ability never failed, and he had proven himself time and time again in their eyes.

As Stoick dismissed the tribe, the teens that Hiccup had trained with found themselves at their usual table, but there was a darkened atmosphere to the customarily jovial group.

"I can't believe him!" Fumed Snotlout. "The Useless actually betrayed us! Wait until I get my hands around his scrawny neck, he'll wish he'd never been born."

"Actually, I think he already wishes that." Commented Fishlegs, who was saddened more than outraged at Hiccup's actions. "I mean, did you see his face when he was in there? He looked desperate, terrified even." He explained upon seeing the confused glances directed his way.

"Exactly! He was scared." Crowed Snotlout. "A real Viking never feels fear."

The group paused, recalling the words spoken so often to them by their elders about the standards that a Viking should meet. Heads tilted one way or another as each gave the matter their consideration, coming to the conclusion that Snotlout was possibly correct.

There is something to be said about the influence of the powerful. Even if their intentions are not always just, they retain the ability to swing a debate one way or the other without a convincing argument, simply by stating their opinion. It is a gift that not many have the opportunity to obtain, but on Berk there was nothing to stop Snotlout Jorgenson from reaching out and taking such power for himself. After all, his cousin was much weaker than himself, and he was second in line to the chiefdom should anything happen. When coupled with the fact that there simply weren't many children on Berk, this left the young man with a lot of power and very little in the way of correct guidance, so it is perhaps hasty to judge him so harshly.

Despite Snotlout's obvious cruelty and arrogance, the teens of Berk more often than not found themselves swaying to see his side of the story, no matter what the event. They themselves were not exactly a vindictive group, but they too had lacked the correct guidance when growing up. Not for a lack of trying, but it is rather hard to parent well when one is constantly fending off hordes of fire-breathing lizards, rebuilding homesteads, and working the usual jobs around the village.

With Hiccup gone, the rest of the children of Berk, both the teens and those younger, had all come to the same realisation. Snotlout was now the heir of Berk. Something that gave him even more power. Even Astrid Hofferson, who more often than not had merely stuck to the side-lines when Hiccup had been attacked or bullied, found herself in a difficult position. Of course, she wouldn't have come to the defence of the runt anyway, she was perhaps the one person in the tribe that now hated Hiccup more than anyone, but now she was starting to see the Jorgenson boy's point of view, even share it.

With the day drawing to a close, one thing was certain, Hiccup Haddock was no longer welcome in the Archipelago, nor did he want to be there. But the artistic thing about fate is that it always appears when least expected.

Hiccup's sleep was haunted by the screams. The harrowing sounds of death reminded him of exactly what he had done. There was an unbearable heat around him, flames that leapt up whenever he tried to push through. Turning around, he found himself trapped, entirely encircled by the blaze.

Shapes prowled around the outside, mere shadows flickering in the light, and for a fleeting moment Hiccup feared that it was some hostile species of dragon. Such concerns were banished and replaced with a much more palpable dread as the shapes drew closer.

A gargantuan figure forced its way through the flames, abhorrently scarred and face twisted with cruelty.

"You did this." Stoick the Vast accused, stalking towards the boy. The closer the man drew, the smaller Hiccup felt. He shrank back, cowering as close to the flames as he dared.

Other figures, similarly disfigured, limped through the flames. Some Hiccup had seen die in the arena, some had been killed because of him. Others were survivors of his escape, their injuries less pronounced but nonetheless gruesome.

They closed in around him, before an animalistic growl could be heard behind Hiccup, beyond the blaze. Just as Stoick raised his ever-present axe, a black shape flew over Hiccup, a blast was fired, and all went dark.

-The Clearing-

The first thing Hiccup noticed was the lack of noise. Aside from the twittering of a few of the native birds, and the huffing of the dragons in their sleep, there was nothing. It was peaceful, infinitely more so than his dream, and for a moment the young ex-Viking simply relaxed. After a few soothing seconds his eyes finally cracked open, allowing light to filter in.

Unfortunately, the smell surrounding Hiccup was not nearly as pleasant as the sound. The sweet stench of sweat filled the air immediately around him, and he realised that his clothes were damp not from dew but were the result of his nightmare. There was also a distinct aroma of dung, and Hiccup was horrified to see a large pile of it just metres away from the area that had served as his bed for the night.

" _ **They thought they were helping."**_ Came the helpful voice of Toothless, who had been standing guard for the last few hours, ever since Hiccup had woken him with the nightmare.

" _ **They wanted to keep you warm but didn't want to risk burning you."**_ The black dragon continued, a hint of amusement creeping in at Hiccup's expression of disgust.

He sighed. The newly-formed flock clearly had his best interests at heart but perhaps it was time for a talk of some form.

He was touched that they cared, but he desperately wished that they had come up with a better way to express their concern. Dragon dung was not the perfect gift, although he did have to admit that he hadn't felt cold once during the night.

Toothless laughed in his head, which still felt beyond strange to Hiccup, having his best friend constantly able to tell what he was thinking.

" _ **Is there some way to control what you can see in my head?"**_ The boy asked, making sure to keep the conversation a mental one so as to not disturb the other dragons.

" _ **Why would you need to?"**_ Toothless questioned, completely oblivious to the human construct of privacy, even as a solitary species of dragon.

Hiccup did not much want to explain himself, but he knew that Toothless wouldn't tell him without a good reason to back up the decision.

" _ **No reason, it was just a question."**_ The boy answered, knowing that the matter would not be forgotten, but Toothless seemed content to drop the conversation for the time being.

Around them the other dragons began to stir, and then Hiccup became busy in greeting them and attempting to explain that humans didn't eat raw fish and so he had to cook his breakfast. Unfortunately for the poor boy, he simply didn't know enough Dragonese, and so repeatedly relayed information through Toothless, who soon became bored of playing translator.

" _Enough!"_ The Night Fury barked, stunning the small group into silence. _"Two-legs are a strange species, and do not enjoy the same earthly pleasures that we do. Therefore, Hiccup cannot eat the same as we do. If we were the same, he would have wings, and breath fire just as we do."_

Although everyone present was very aware of these differences, no one was willing to further test Toothless' patience, and so they lapsed into silence as they watched the human cook his fish.

" _Where will you go?"_ The boy asked, struggling with the unfamiliar Dragonese words.

The dragons looked at each other before Stormfly answered.

" _We have heard of a great king in the North, that offers sanctuary to all,"_ she began, _"and we have decided to try to find him."_

They all looked sheepish, if dragons could do so, but Hiccup merely smiled.

" _A good choice."_ He responded, then switching to Norse to better express what he wanted to say next. "I wish you all the best on your journey, and for what it's worth you have my blessing."

He had heard his father say something similar to couples that came to him asking for permission to leave the tribe to find their own way in the world, and he felt distinctly older and wiser as the words left his mouth.

Despite his previous complaints, Toothless deemed the phrase important enough to translate.

" _May your wings be string and the wind at your back."_ The Night Fury added solemnly.

The small drove dipped their heads as one, a show of respect that even Toothless seemed shocked by. As they rose, Meatlug spoke.

" _Would you come with us?"_

Boy and Night Fury looked at each other, and collectively shook their heads.

" _We have our own journey to undertake first."_ Toothless informed them, and Hiccup felt a tinge of sadness emanating from his friend, adding to his own. _"But if we ever find our way north, then we shall endeavour to find you all again."_

It wasn't long before the dragons had prepared for their flight, and as they all spread their wings to take off they called their goodbyes. It was truly a majestic sight, to witness the small myriad of colour lift from the ground in such a grandiose manner. The drove gained height, their wings already seeming so much stronger than the previous day as they rose towards the clouds.

As their allies wove their way back north, skirting west slightly to avoid both Berk and the Nest, Hiccup and Toothless remained fixed on the horizon, watching the group until they were mere spots in the sky. A solitary tear rolled down Hiccup's cheek, and he sniffed as he wiped at it.

"Just you and me, bud." He stated, glancing at his best friend.

" _ **Always."**_ The dragon replied.


End file.
